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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26729551">The Dirty Donut Deal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyTheFicWriter/pseuds/IvyTheFicWriter'>IvyTheFicWriter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Flash (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Mutual Pining, Role Reversal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:22:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>86,068</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26729551</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvyTheFicWriter/pseuds/IvyTheFicWriter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, so maybe starting a friends with benefits relationship with Iris West, hot  biochem student who’s basically perfect and also the girl who used to be your very best friend in high school, isn’t a great idea. And maybe upgrading it to a fake relationship to not look pathetic in front of your ex isn’t a great idea ei- Look, Barry’s desperate, okay?</p><p>Iris West knows, logically, that being FWB with the guy you were totally in love with - who then broke your heart - in high school isn’t smart. She also knows, logically, that if you, in fact, never got over him, you shouldn’t agree to then make this worse by being in a fake relationship with him so your mother doesn’t think that you’re a headcase. But Barry Allen is extremely beautiful and also very good at sex, so really, who cares about logic?</p><p>Role-reversal where Iris is the nerd with a childhood crush on Barry, and Barry is the oblivious criminal psychology student.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Barry Allen/Iris West</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>214</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. August - Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I’m the person who wrote Miss Miracle aeons ago, and I’ve always loved the idea of these two switching backstories. This randomly came to me about a week ago and I thought I would have a go to stretch my writing muscles, but I’m still working on it, so I don’t even know if I’m going to continue. Let me know what you think.</p><p>EDIT: This is not a continuation of Miss Miracle. I just like the dynamic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Tweet from @neganthestallion96: OMG did anyone else see Barry Allen at DD today??? #spottedatccu</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Reply from @blackpinkisking: Yes!!!!!! He’s so tall in real life lmao. Also he’s cute? Didn’t get that from the video</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Did you talk him?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What was I supposed to say? Sorry your girlfriend dumped you lmao do you want a donut?</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Barry Allen loves Oliver Queen.</p><p>They’ve been best friends since freshman year, when Barry won a beer pong competition but got so blackout drunk that he couldn’t walk home, so Oliver let him stay on their couch and made him breakfast the next day. Of course the breakfast was stale bread and half a banana, but the sentiment was still there, and he put in a good word with Tommy so he saved him a room when his dad got that big house in sophomore year. Oliver will do his best for his friends, no matter what. Barry loves him.</p><p>Which is why Barry is half-drunk, stumbling around the university campus at night, calling Oliver’s name is a low, urgent whisper.</p><p>“Oliver!”</p><p>It’s Barry’s fault, really. Oliver and his Felicity had another fight, and at the Gamma Theta Chi “Welcome Back to Campus” party, where they’d been invited, kept getting more and morose about it. Oliver somehow got it into his head to start singing karaoke - and Barry doesn’t care how many matches he’s won for the school wrestling team, he’s never going to live that down - so Barry distracted him.</p><p>“Look, just explain to her where you were coming from,” he suggests, “and, like, that you would never hurt her feelings. And you’ll always love her.Maybe a nice gesture, like flowers. Really show her how you feel.”</p><p>(He tries not to be too bitter about this, since this is the advice that has ultimately rendered him in his girlfriend-less state).</p><p>Except that Oliver thought he had to do this <em>right now</em>. Without so much as a word of warning, he’d shot out of the party like he was being chased, grabbed a handful of flowers from...somewhere, and ran off into the night. Barry knows where Felicity lives (he thinks? Why had he agreed to those Irish car bombs, god) so that is why he’s here, trying to make sure Oliver doesn’t get arrested by campus police.</p><p>“Oliver!” he hisses, peeping around the corner. “Oliver?” He can’t get over how stupid he looks - a six two white guy that probably smells like vodka and lemonade, who also isn’t too steady on his feet - and he really doesn’t want to get in trouble. Not only does their college have pretty strict rules on trespassing, he knows that Laurel Lance, the head of the house Felicity lives in, made sure the girls all took self-defence classes, and campaigned for the board to get tasers for every girl on campus. Barry just wanted to forget about his ex, and now he’s playing hide and seek with a man who’s almost twice his size.</p><p>Felicity lives in a house with four other girls in a more residential area on campus, but he’s only ever been there once or twice. He checks in bushes, behind cars, by the fences. When he gets to Felicity’s dorm, his heart sinks. Oliver is in front of it, arguing with one of Felicity’s roommates. He hears their voices as he gets closer, and apparently Oliver is out of luck.</p><p>“Oliver - Ollie, honey-”</p><p>“No, it’s not fair,” Oliver is mumbling, swaying slightly on his feet. She is much shorter than him but doing a great job at fending off Oliver’s flailing arms as he tries to get in. He still has the flowers - well, mostly weeds and bits of soil - and is gesturing to the dorms with them. “I just - just want to see Felicity, <em>please</em>-”</p><p>Only he’s so drunk that what comes out is a load of gibberish, punctuated by some whining; Barry can only understand it because he’s seen Oliver drunk so many times. The roommate sighs.</p><p>“Oliver,” she’s saying firmly. “You know I love you, but you cannot come in here. Laurel will kill you-”</p><p>“Hi,” Barry says quickly, coming into view. She looks at him and starts, and then stares at him. She’s petite, with bronze skin and deep, wide brown eyes, and long, black, wavy hair that hangs loose below her shoulders. He blinks, thrown. She’s so pretty that Barry forgets that he’s supposed to be here for Oliver for a moment - but then Oliver tries to make a break for the rooms and she plants both hands firmly on his chest to keep him back. “Oliver,” she says again, and he lets out a whine.</p><p>“Come on!”</p><p>Her eyes flicker to him, and she swallows. “You - you’re Barry Allen, right?”</p><p>Great. Felicity’s hot roommate knows who he is. Which means that despite the fact that Oliver now is reciting a poem for Felicity that he just made up, he’s the most pathetic guy she’s ever seen. Maybe even in existence. Nope, more like of all time.</p><p>“Yeah,” he says, taking over Oliver-handling duty. Her eyes snap back to Oliver and Barry sighs inwardly. He’s been getting that look, that “fascinated-by-the-human-train-wreck-but-oh-god-don’t-<em>stare</em>” look, for weeks. Nobody but his own friends have been able to look him in the eye since it happened, and even they can’t stop looking like they feel sorry for him. He needs to get out of here before she breaks out the pity. “Sorry about - him, look, Ollie-”</p><p>“FELICITY!” he bellows, and Barry and the girl share identical panicked looks. If Laurel Lance catches Oliver making trouble out here, she’ll dangle him from the flagpole by his innards. “FELICITY, I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.”</p><p>“Oh, God,” she whispers, pained, as Barry lets out a strangled noise. Oliver keeps trying to get past them both to get to the doors, and Barry and the roommate are trying to herd him away from the building. She looks at him, speaking over Oliver’s shoulder. “Barry, we have to get him out of here.”</p><p>“You don’t think I know that?” he whispers back, trying to stop Oliver from yelling again. “Look, can’t we just get Felicity to talk to him for a little bit?”</p><p>“Felicity’s not here,” she hisses back. She lowers her voice even more. “They had a fight and she went to her moms in Coast City, but we’re not supposed to tell Oliver because she wanted space.”</p><p>She glances back at the dorms and seems to come a decision. “Ollie - Hey, Oliver. So, um, Felicity is sleeping and she asked us not to disturb her, but how about Barry and I take you home, and on the way you can tell me everything you want to tell her and I’ll tell her when she wakes up?”</p><p>Oliver frowns at her. “Do you promise?”</p><p>“Scouts honour,” she promises, smiling, and wow, okay, Felicity’s roommate has the most blinding smile he’s ever seen. It makes her eyes seem even prettier and...holy hell. For a second, he forgets about <em>her</em>.</p><p>For a second.</p><p>In the present, Oliver eyes the roommate and then nods.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>She catches his eye and they both sort of silently agree to take one arm each - though Barry makes sure to take the bulk of his weight because Oliver really is massive. They begin a slow but steady procession back to the dorms, Barry with one of Oliver’s arms over his shoulder and the other around his waist, the roommate listening intently to his detailed explanation as to why Felicity didn’t understand his point while she holds him up as best she can.</p><p>“See, I didn’t mean it,” he explains earnestly, “about going back to Boston. I just thought that staying here in Central would be less boring.”</p><p>“Okay, honey, I get that,” the roommate says. “But, um, you know Felicity’s wants to go to MIT eventually, right? And - maybe don’t call the course that she worked for two years straight to get onto boring?”</p><p>Oliver thinks about this and she rubs his back, and Barry takes the opportunity to study her. She’s in a black, figure-hugging halter neck dress with little silver Eiffel Towers on them. The bright look in her eyes tells him that she’s a little drunk as well, so Barry guesses that she’d been at a party when Oliver showed up. His heart sinks guiltily; he would have taken Oliver back by himself and now she’ll have to walk back on her own.</p><p>“So, uh,” he begins, while Oliver is muttering you himself, “sorry about this. I hope I didn’t ruin your night?”</p><p>To his surprise, she tenses and looks straight ahead. “It’s fine,” she says, shrugging. “It’s Oliver and Felicity, you know? They’re like that.”</p><p>“I do, I do know,” he agrees. “I’m just sorry because this was my idea.”</p><p>She eyes him. “You told Oliver to serenade Felicity with shrubbery?”</p><p>“I told him to talk to Felicity. The Taye Diggs with a boombox routine was his idea.”</p><p>She giggles, and Barry feels strangely like he’s accomplished something. She glances at him. “Like I said, it’s okay. And you didn’t ruin my night, I wasn’t doing anything very interesting anyway. So.”</p><p>“Right, you just walk around looking drop dead gorgeous when you’re bored,” he says, shifting Oliver’s weight. Then he realises what he’s said and blushes, looking at her, just in time to see her biting her lip as she looks back at him.</p><p>“Um,” she says quietly. She pushes some hair out of her face. “T-Thanks.”</p><p>“Maybe we should get a house,” Oliver says suddenly, and then she has to explain to Oliver why, no, getting a house in your junior year of college after dating for eighteen months isn’t the greatest idea. Then Barry tells him that maybe he should call Felicity when he’s sober, and they take turns reassuring him as they make it back to their house. It takes a little longer because sometimes Oliver wants to go back, but they manage in the end.</p><p>All the while Barry keeps shooting furtive glances at Felicity’s mysterious roommate, who really is more beautiful than anyone has any right to be. He soon realises that there’s something about her that’s niggling at him, but he can’t put his finger on it. For her part, he catches her looking at him a couple of times, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, before she glances away again, but not before flashing him a brief, shy smile and then making sure Oliver doesn’t trip. He catches her shivering slightly in the strangely-cool August night air, and wishes he had a jacket to offer her. He’s sure she’d appreciate some chivalry in the face of dragging a drunk Oliver Queen back to his dorm.</p><p>Soon they are depositing Oliver back in the house that they all share, careful to put water and aspirin by his bed. Thankfully Cisco is a stickler for cleaning and made them spring clean last night, or he wouldn’t even allow Felicity’s roommate in the house. “Okay, Ollie,” he says gently. “You just...lie there...and I’m gonna...take your phone...”</p><p>“Is he going to be okay?” she asks. Barry nods, pocketing his friends phone so he doesn’t leave Felicity an embarrassing message. He turns back to her.</p><p>“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He’ll feel pretty terrible in the morning, but at least it’s not because Laurel punches him. Hey,” he says suddenly, remembering something. “I just realised - I never found out your name?” Her eyes widen, and she swallows.</p><p>“Oh. I - um. I’m Iris-”</p><p>Oliver interrupts them with a snore that Barry can actually feel rattling his eardrums, and he turns and flicks him in the ear. His friend doesn’t respond. “See? Already sleeping.“</p><p>“Okay, just make sure he’s on his - oh!”</p><p>Iris trips over one of Oliver’s shoes, and before Barry can think he’s grabbed her around the waist. They lock eyes and he feels his face heat, and he removes his hands before he doesn’t something really embarrassing, like pull her in to kiss him. She flips her hair out of her face, which Barry realises she does when she’s nervous, and which feels more familiar than something he’d know about a girl he met half an hour ago.</p><p>“Sorry,” she says quickly, laughing. “I guess that’s what happens when you do Jell-O shots with your roommates. Anyway, I’d better get out of your hair.”</p><p>“Oh, no - let me walk you home.”</p><p>“Really, it’s fine. Our place isn’t that far from here-”</p><p>“Iris,” he interrupts, and the look she gives him when he says her name almost freezes him in place. He shakes his head. “Even if I didn’t want to walk you back home, it’s late, and I’m not letting you walk back after those Jell-O shots.”</p><p>“But that means you’re making this journey four times,” she points out, and he shrugs.</p><p>“It’s good exercise.”</p><p>“Really?” She pokes him in the stomach and he tries not to blush. “Because if you turned sideways you’d disappear, beanpole.”</p><p>(He tries and fails to not take this as a compliment.)</p><p>The walk back in much quicker, given they’re not lugging a one hundred and eighty pound business student who’s almost blackout drunk. They can hear the noise of various parties scattered around the various houses - people hooting while they do keg stands, pounding music blaring from speakers, and the occasional airhorn. Iris wraps her arms around herself as they walk, shivering again, and Barry resists the urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders.</p><p>“So, you live with Felicity?” he asks. “Are you guys on the same course?”</p><p>“Oh, no, I do biochem and physics. Felicity does computer science, we met in intro to statistics.” She gives him a small smile. “I’m guessing the Adventures of Oliver and Felicity aren’t new to you?”</p><p>He rubs his eyes. “Oh, definitely. Not to mention the sequel: Oliver and Felicity Make Up While Barry Is Trying To Study.”</p><p>“Oh, god, they’re the <em>worst</em>. I mean, maybe I’m a little jealous, but we also share a wall. I don’t need to know that much about Oliver.”</p><p>“Believe me, that ship has most definitely sailed,” he sighs. “So, what were you doing tonight?”</p><p>“Ah. I went with my other roommate to Trajectory, she’s trying to get me to relax.”</p><p>“Relax?”</p><p>“I’ve...kind of had a lot on, lately. She says I’m tense and I need to unwind, and honestly she’s not wrong.” She snorts. “Linda’s never wrong. I kind of hate that about her?”</p><p>They laugh and Barry sighs again, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah,” he mutters, thinking of going back to the paper tomorrow. “I’ve kind of had a lot going on, too.”</p><p>Iris looks up at him then, biting her lip, and he knows that she’s definitely aware of what he’s talking about. Strangely, he doesn’t see pity in her eyes, only kindness and empathy, and he wonders for the millionth time why she seems to familiar to him. “We don’t have to talk about it, Barry,” she says quietly. “I’m sure you’re probably all talked out.”</p><p>She smiles at him then, and Barry finds himself staring at her mouth, which is plump and full and shiny with pale pink lipgloss. He blinks. “Uh. Um, thanks. So, do you think Laurel heard us?”</p><p>Iris rolls her eyes. “Probably. But Oliver’s lucky, he never made it in the building and we got him out of there, so at least he has plausible deniability. Anyway, she might not be so bad right now, it’s only when it’s exam season she turns into the Warden from <em>Holes</em>.”</p><p>He grins. “I love that book!”</p><p>“Me too! You know how much I’d pay for nail polish that can kill people? I’d never get groped by a guy in a club again.”</p><p>“Oh, so you wouldn’t use your powers for evil?”</p><p>“I’m not saying I wouldn’t threaten the barista at Jitters so he saves me the chocolate fudge brownies, but I think I’d give him a good reminder.”</p><p>They’re still laughing when they make it to the steps of her dorms, and she turns to face him. “Thanks for walking me back. I kind of feel bad for you, having to walk back by yourself.”</p><p>“Nah, don’t worry about me. This beanpole can take care of himself.”</p><p>She giggles again and he steps closer to her without thinking. “Thanks for your help with Oliver. I’d say I’ll try to make sure he doesn’t do it again, but honestly, he’s bigger than me, and also I’m scared of him, so I can’t stop him.”</p><p>Iris lifts one shoulder in a shrug, stepping closer to him as well. “No biggie. Next time I’ll put Sara on Felicity Relationship Duty.”</p><p>“Good idea.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>Barry swallows again. There’s no real need for them to be dragging this out, but they can’t seem to stop. He licks his lips and watches Iris track the movement, before her eyes travel right back up to his eyes. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but something has started fizzing hotly in the base of his stomach, and he’s vaguely aware that he’s panting, slightly. She makes the hair-flipping motion again, and yeah, it’s definitely not the alcohol. He steps closer to her again, so close he can feel her body heat through her clothes.</p><p>“It’s dark,” she says, craning her head up to look at him. She gestures to the way he came but doesn’t take her eyes off him. “You should - probably-”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” he says, and he’s not sure who touches who or who moves first but suddenly her arms are around his neck and she’s kissing him.</p><p>One of her hands tangles in his hair and the other slips under his collar as she presses up against him. Barry wraps his arms around her hips and pulls her into him, swallowing the sound of surprise she lets out. She tastes like raspberry vodka. She’s biting at his bottom lip in time with her raking her hand through his hair, and he runs his hands up to the bare skin of her back. Iris gasps before tilting her head and licking his mouth open, darting her tongue inside and making him moan. They stand like that, kissing and touching and panting hotly into each other’s mouths, until they run out of air and break apart with a wet smack of their lips. Barry presses his forehead against hers.</p><p>“Um,” she breathes into his mouth. “Or you could, I don’t know, stay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” he says hoarsely, squeezing at her hips. “Yeah, okay.”</p><p>Somehow her they manage to sneak upstairs to her room on the first floor without waking anyone, before Iris unlocks the door and shuts it behind her. Barry wastes no time crowding her against it and kissing her again, cupping her jaw with both hands. Iris slides her hands underneath his shirt, running her fingers along his abdomen. He’s trying to be as gentlemanly as possible but Iris grabs one of his hands and puts it on her hip, laughing softly at the surprised “Oh” he lets out.</p><p>“Sorry,” he says, embarrassed, “not - uh - done this in a while.”</p><p>“No complaints here.”</p><p>Okay so he’s kind of made an idiot out of himself, admitting that, so he responds to this by slipping his hand up her dress and curling his fingers into the band of her panties. Which are lace.</p><p>“<em>Really</em> - no complaints,” she gasps out as he uses his thumb to find her clit. He braces one hand against the door and uses the other to start rubbing in slow, firm circles, and he knows he’s doing something right because Iris’ kisses become harder and sloppier, and she starts pulling so hard at his hair he’s afraid it’s going to come out. He moves his head down to start mouthing at her neck, leaving wet kisses on her skin, and then slips in another finger even as he continues to rub at her clit.</p><p>“Barry, you - <em>fuck</em>,” she gasps out, her voice high-pitched. She starts riding his hand, pushing up against him as he increases his pace.</p><p>“Is that - good, or-”</p><p>“It’s good,” she moans, raking her hands up and down his body. “It’s good, it’s <em>so good</em>...”</p><p>She breaks off and just starts gasping in time with his movements, and he can feel that she’s close to the edge. He bites down on her neck and feels when her orgasm rocks over her, her head thrown back as she arched against the wall. “Oh my god, Barry,” she pants as she comes back to herself. “I hope you know that....your ex is...criminally stupid.”</p><p>She sounds so irritated on his behalf that he finds it weirdly endearing and smiles to himself. Unfortunately Iris takes his silence to mean that he’s offended. “Oh. Oh god - sorry, I-”</p><p>“It’s fine,” he chuckles, surprising himself, because it is. This is the first time he’s not felt like complete shit in three weeks. “Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>Iris runs her hands back up his torso. “Such broad shoulders for a beanpole,” she laughs softly. “Maybe you’re more of a beanstalk.”</p><p>“‘Barry the Beanstalk’? Really?”</p><p>She laughs again and tilts his chin back with a finger to kiss him very softly, before pulling at his belt buckle and shoving down his pants. She palms his dick through his boxers and he jerks roughly into her hand with a hiss. “Bed,” she says firmly, and then she’s unzipping her dress and he’s taking off his shirt, and she pulls him down on top of her after he’s rolled on the condom. He braces himself on top of her and she guides him in, arching slowly off the bed as she takes and then takes some more, until he’s buried all the way to the hilt inside of her.</p><p>Iris pulls him down for a filthy, open-mouthed kiss and clenches, making him jerk forward involuntarily, hard. He winces as her head comes perilously close to hitting the headboard. “Ah,” he murmurs tightly, “sorry.” But Iris takes his chin in her hand and looks him in the eye.</p><p>“Don’t apologise. Do it again.”</p><p> </p><p>Okay.</p><p>Okay, so maybe that hadn’t been the smartest idea.</p><p>Iris West hops daintily out of her shower, peeks around the door, and once she confirms that, yes, Barry Allen is still dead to the world in her bed, she goes back behind the door. And, yes, maybe it’s unbecoming of a 20-year-old biochem student to be hiding in her bathroom from her - unconscious - one-night-stand, but she doesn’t care. Because she just slept with <em>Barry Allen</em>.</p><p>She dresses quickly, trying to quell the panic that’s been rising since she woke up with her head on his arm and she realised what they’d done. Three times. She brushes her hair, applies some light makeup, and puts her glasses, before studying herself in the mirror. There. That doesn’t look like she’s having a breakdown on the inside, does it?</p><p>Iris peeks outside again. Amazingly, Barry is still asleep - but then, he had said she wore him out last night. She can’t help but smile at the memory, despite herself. Afterwards he had lain there, chest heaving, and looked over at her. “How come I haven’t seen you before?”</p><p>This, she could answer honestly. “Well, we do completely different subjects. Psychology, right?”</p><p>“Criminal psychology. But still, I know Laurel and Felicity, and Sara, but I didn’t even know you lived here. I know...I don’t think - I mean, I’m pretty sure I would have remembered you.”</p><p><em>I’m not so sure about that</em>, she thinks to herself, with just a taste of bitterness. Out loud she says, “Oh, yeah, well I only moved in here last year with my friend Linda - before that we lived off-campus, but our landlord sold the house. And there’s this project I’ve been working on and I can mostly only work at night, or when the labs are empty, which is basically never, so I’m not around that much.”</p><p>She hadn’t mentioned that as soon as she realised that Barry Allen was also at Central City University - through a conversation with her friend Cisco in freshman applied physics - that she had taken painstaking and sometimes ludicrous steps to avoid him. He’d frowned.</p><p>“Okay, but...are you sure we haven’t met before? You seem really familiar.”</p><p>Barry Allen hasn’t changed much from high school. Sure, he’s taller, with broader shoulders and nice hands and...all of that. But he is still the same sweet boy she met when she was five. He’s still the same guy who would drag his unconscious roommate back home and then make sure a girl he (thinks he) just met got home safe. And he’s still the same guy who goes out of his way to be kind to people, despite the fact he’d be totally justified in flipping off the entire world right now.</p><p>Which is why she knows it’s a mistake. And why she’d lied to him.</p><p>“I guess I just have one of those faces.”</p><p>He’d nodded thoughtfully, and then grinned at her. “I guess I really can’t be mad at Oliver.”</p><p>She’d tried not to blush too hard. “You can totally be mad at Oliver, because those flowers that he stole are obviously from Professor Stein’s wife’s prize-winning collection, and they have cameras and a Doberman.”</p><p>Then she’d said she was going to sleep as she had an early day, and he was welcome to stay since it was so late. Iris had sensed that he wanted to talk more but honestly that was all she could handle without totally freaking out. So, she’d, you know. Saved the freakout for the next day.</p><p>Iris looks at her watch. She has an early meeting with her advisor in about thirty minutes, and as much as she’d really love to escape and not have to think about the decisions that her stupid drunk self made, she knows it’s kind of mean to leave Barry here. Her phone buzzes and she snatches it up. “Linda, oh my god, where were you?” she hisses. “I’ve been texting you for hours!” Her best friend’s voice comes, as dry and amused as always, down the phone.</p><p>“Well, after you abandoned me-“</p><p>“Linda Park, I did not abandon you, you were attached to the quarterback from Central City Park University. You abandoned me.”</p><p>She pauses. “Okay, fair point. But I put you in the cab with Sara, and she said you guys both got home okay.”</p><p>Iris bites her lip. This is true; as soon as Iris knew she’d wanted to go home, Linda briefly detached herself from the quarterback and waited with Sara and Iris for the cab. She’s just nervous because - well. <em>Barry Allen</em>.</p><p>“Wait, Iris,” she says, alarm creeping into her voice. “You’re okay, right? Did something happen?”</p><p>“Um. So. There’s a boy in my bed.” The words are barely out before Linda lets out a delighted shriek.</p><p>“Iris! Oh my god, you had me so worried! Was it good? Who was it? Wait, you used condoms, didn’t you?”</p><p>“Of course I did!”</p><p>“Oh, good. Great.” Iris can hear the grin in her voice. “I knew you needed sex. You’ve been all wound up and stressed for weeks.”</p><p>“Uh-huh,” she says, glancing at Barry again. He’s turned over so only his bare back is visible, but he’s still snoring like he’ll never wake up. “Look, that’s not the problem.” She pauses. “So, um, remember that guy from high school?”</p><p>Linda pauses, and when she speaks again, her voice is much quieter. “The guy from homecoming? The guy who...”</p><p>“Yeah,” she says, swallowing around the lump that’s suddenly formed in her throat. She feels like her fifteen-year-old self has snuck out of the place where she’d tucked away her feelings for Barry when she realised he didn’t return them, and is now wreaking all sorts of havoc on her heart. “Him. So, I didn’t...tell you everything about him. Like - like his name.”</p><p>“His name?”</p><p>Iris takes a deep breath. “It’s Barry Allen.”</p><p>“BARRY ALLEN?!” Linda shrieks. “BARRY ALLEN IS THE GUY YOU WERE IN LOVE WITH IN HIGH SCHOOL?! AND YOU - YOU <em>SLEPT</em> WITH HIM?!”</p><p>“Linda, shut up!” Iris hisses. “He’s still sleeping!”</p><p>“You slept with Barry Allen! You slept with Barry Allen and you want me to shut up? Iris,” she sighs. “Iris, how did this happen?“</p><p>“I have no idea,” she wails. “I just - Oliver showed up drunk to talk to Felicity-“</p><p>“Oh my god, again? Laurel will <em>kill</em> him.”</p><p>“So then Barry and I took him back, and then he walked me home, and then he looked at me, and he’s so...” Iris shakes her head, thinking of his eyes, and his mouth, and his stupidly adorable face. “And then we were kissing and then-”</p><p>“Bam-chicka-wow-wow.”</p><p>“Linda,” Iris says, looking at Barry again. “I mean it.”</p><p>“Okay. What do you want?”</p><p>Iris considers this as she sneaks out of the bathroom, and stuffs her things in her bag. She has to admit that when she was talking to Barry yesterday, she hadn’t been thinking of the all-consuming crush she’d harboured on him since they were five and he tied her shoelaces for her on the first day of school, that continued all through grade school and middle school and even high school until - anyway. She’d actually just been focused on a guy who was into her, and she’d also been into him, so with the help of raspberry vodka flavoured Jell-O shots, she’d just gone for it - which also explains all that confidence. Really, it was just a case of her hormones holding her body hostage while her brain was banging helplessly at the window. Her inner fifteen-year-old notwithstanding.</p><p>But nothing good could come of this. First of all, she absolutely cannot date anyone this year. She’s a finalist for the Harrison Wells Prize of Excellence in Scientific Research and she can’t afford any distractions. Second, she’s absolutely positive that once Barry remembers who she is, he’ll have no interest in dating her, either. In fact, she’s already preparing the speech to let him off the hook when he invariably figures it out and embarrassingly explains that he thought she was someone else and hints that he would love it if they could avoid each other for the rest of college. And third, even if by some wild stretch of the imagination he wouldn’t be completely freaked out by her, given what had happened to him three weeks ago, she’s sure he doesn’t actually want to date anyone at all.</p><p>Iris presses her lips together when she realises she’s probably a one-night-stand herself, and thinks that maybe her fifteen-year-old self has more hold on her than she thought. She looks at Barry, who has now turned on his side, facing the window. “I’m pretty sure this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” she laughs sadly, still keeping her voice down. “So I think I want to forget it and go back to avoiding him. Even if there wasn’t high school to think about, he’s Barry Allen. I’d be the biggest idiot on the planet to go there.”</p><p>“When I’m done with my meeting you’re going to have to explain to me how you managed to avoid him for so long.”</p><p>She slips through the door and shuts it with a quiet click, before making her way down the stairs. “Yeah, well, just don’t tell Wally, okay? He hates Barry.”</p><p>“Oh, sure, I’m going to tell Wally that the guy who made his cousin cry hooked up with her. Give me some credit. Besides, I hate him too.”</p><p>“Linda, you’ve never even met him.”</p><p>“He broke your heart, Iris.”</p><p>Iris pauses at the protective tenderness in Linda’s tone, fiddling with the vanilla flavouring, that lump coming back to her throat. “Well,” she says quietly, “I can’t really blame him for that when he didn’t even know he was breaking it.”</p><p>“I can totally pour coffee on him when I start at the paper today.”</p><p>“Linda!”</p><p>“Okay, kidding.” She pauses. “It’s a shame, though.”</p><p>“Is it?” Iris demands incredulously, pouring iced coffee into her Princess Leia insulator.</p><p>“Well, not the fact that it’s Barry, the fact that you had a successful one-night-stand. I’m serious, you’ve needed to wind down for ages - didn’t you spend the whole summer in the labs here on campus?”</p><p>Iris thinks back to last night, lying next to Barry trying to get her breath back and feeling more relaxed than she had in weeks. And really he’s just very, very good at sex. “Good point.”</p><p>“And you know your mom wants you to meet someone.”</p><p>Iris‘ stomach heaves. “Yeah,” she says quietly. “Yeah, I know.”</p><p>“Hey!” Linda says brightly. “Next week we can go to that party that the medics are throwing, see if we can’t get you a nice doctor for Mrs. West to drool over.”</p><p>“That’d be nice.”</p><p>She promises to meet up with her later and then hangs up, and before remembering that Oliver had spent almost fifteen minutes explaining exactly what she had to say to Felicity, and her promise that she would tell her exactly how he said it. She dials her friends number and gets voicemail.</p><p>“Smoak, your boyfriend is a liability. Call him.”</p><p>On her way out she almost runs into Laurel, who’s sipping coffee in the doorway to the lounge, wrapped in a huge blanket. “Morning, Laurel.” Laurel grins.</p><p>“You dirty girl.”</p><p> </p><p>Once he’s sure that Iris is really gone, Barry rubs his face and looks around for his clothes. In the - warm? - light of day, hooking up with someone three weeks after getting dumped doesn’t feel like as good an idea as it did yesterday when he’d kissed Iris, especially now that he’s going to have to walk back to his place and deal with Cisco asking him why he hadn’t come home last night. Still, he had been feeling pretty okay about it - until he heard Iris on the phone.</p><p>He’d only caught the tail end of the conversation, since he’d woken up while she was in the bathroom and he couldn’t actually hear her until she came out of it, but it was enough. It was all pretty bad, but <em>I’m pretty sure this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done</em> and <em>I’d be the biggest idiot on the planet to go there</em> are pretty high on the list of things you don’t want to hear after spending the night with someone.</p><p>He pulls his shoes on, then starts hunting for his watch. He hadn’t even been planning on dating anyone - the idea completely terrifies him - and he was planning to say that he had fun but that he shouldn’t be dating right now and would prefer if they could stay friends. But then, isn’t this what he’d been afraid of, when Cisco (and Ronnie, and Oliver, and even Kara) had suggested he go out and have fun go try and forget everything? That it would be all anyone would be able to talk about or think about when they looked at him? Just - Iris had been so nice. Sweet and funny and gorgeous, obviously, and he just felt...good, around her. So why is-</p><p>Wait.</p><p>Iris’ room is clean and tidy, decorated with various posters and knick knacks, including a DNA plushie toy on her desk and a pop art rendering of the periodic table. There’s also a whole wall filled with pictures. Her desk is missing the laptop, but he can see books and a stress ball and a little photo frame with four pictures in it. But the one that draws his eye is clearly Iris as a child, round black glasses shining in the sun, two plaits hanging down her back. She’s holding a trophy of some kind - science fair, probably? - and in big letters are the words “FIRST PLACE - IRIS WEST”.</p><p>Iris West. Iris <em>West</em>?!</p><p>Barry stares stupidly at the photo, and then at the door Iris just vacated, as if one of them is going to offer an explanation. Dread curls in his stomach. But this doesn’t make sense. The Iris West he remembers never wore her hair like this one, always wore glasses, and was at least three inches shorter.</p><p><em>You haven’t seen her since junior year, Barry</em>, a voice in his head says. He thinks of the Iris of last night. Puts glasses on her face. Pulls her hair back into a ponytail. Imagines her excitedly talking about atoms at his dinner table. His heart sinks and the dread in his stomach curdles into embarrassment. So that’s why she’d been so surprised to see him, and why she acted like she hadn’t known who he was. He can’t believe he spent almost an hour with her before he learned her name, and even then he never figured it out.No wonder she was so tense around him at first. She must have thought he was the worlds biggest jackass.</p><p>And no wonder she’d said they didn’t know each other afterwards. He can’t imagine how embarrassing it must feel to hook up with a guy who doesn’t even remember that he’s known you since you were kids. Well. Actually, maybe he does. With a sinking heart, Barry remembers that Iris never actually wants to see him again, let alone be friends. Not only had she said as much on the phone, but she’d shut down any meaningful conversation and then run out on him this morning. Which is...typical, isn’t it?</p><p>Barry sighs. The last time he’d spoken to Iris West, they had been teenagers. The last thing he’d been expecting was to find out they’d been at the same college for two years. But then, the last time they’d spoken, they’d also basically been best friends. He still remembers her bright, sunshiny smile when he’d pick her up so they could walk to school together. His mind swivels to the moment they stopped being friends, and he shakes his head. There’s no way he can relive all that again.</p><p>Barry manages to get downstairs before he runs into Laurel, who is finishing off a cup of coffee. “Morning, Barry,” she says knowingly. He rubs the back of his head.</p><p>“Morning, Laurel.”</p><p>“Did you have a good night?”</p><p>He can’t help but smile at the smirk in her tone. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”</p><p>“Yeah, whatever. You just missed Iris, she has early meetings on Wednesdays. You want me to give her a message?”</p><p>“I’ll call her later,” he lies. She purses her lips, setting her coffee down, and that’s when Barry sees the pity.</p><p>“You want some breakfast, honey?”</p><p>“Ah. No, thanks, I’m just gonna go home and shower.”</p><p>Unexpectedly, she hugs him, then pulls back. “You tell Oliver Queen that if he tries that caterwauling rooster routine around here again, he’s going to pay the fine for the noise ordinance.”</p><p>“Noted,” he laughs. He tells Laurel he’ll see her later and heads back in the direction of his house, wondering whether Oliver has woken up yet. Even though it’s early, people are milling about campus, sitting on the grass, trying to soak up the last days of summer before classes begin for real next week. Barry’s a humanities major so he has another week, but he knows that Ronnie, Cisco, and some of the medics have already started. He walks past the vast courtyard, where there are already stalls set up with information packets and tour guides to welcome the freshmen. He’s wondering whether he can blag a free cup of coffee when his phone buzzes with a text.</p><p>
  <em>Bringing some stuff you left after the meeting at the paper</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Patty x</em>
</p><p>Barry looks up at the banner that reads “<em>Welcome to Central City University - The Best Days Are Just Around the Corner</em>!”</p><p>Yeah, right.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. August - Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Barry and Iris deal with their unconventional reunion. Contains (1) daring rescue.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So i wasn't expecting this feedback and got so excited that I planned a whole story, which explains this 16K monster. Yay!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @laurrystar7: did anyone else see Pspiv with her new man today?! I didn’t know she was already dating! #SpottedatCCU</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @katykeene: yes! I saw them at the dirty donut. What’s his name?</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @briethebeelarvan: Thaddeus Thawne. His dad owns all those hotels</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @katykeene: wait is he eddies brother? the guy who manages jitters </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @laurrystar7: nah he told me they’re cousins.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @katykeene: ok not to be mean but I get why patty dumped him for Thaddeus he’s a whole millionaire. Plus that thing in their office seemed kind of intense? Idk</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @briethebeelarvan: well there’s also the fact that patty and thad look like models and Barry is...eh</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @katykeene: RUDE</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @briethebeelarvan: what? it’s a preference, you know I like a man with meat on his bones and thad looks like his jawline was carved by gods</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @laurrystar7: stop it, he’s looks sweet. And TALL</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @briethebeelarvan:...you’d still date thad tho right</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @katykeene: yeah lol</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">Before Joe West was killed, the one song he used to sing to Iris was “My Girl”. He sang it everywhere, to her mother when she got in from her shifts at the hospital, to Iris when she was doing her homework, at the restaurant where he worked as a chef. He sang it the day she was born and on each of her birthdays. One day, while she was eleven and doing her homework at the kitchen counter as he made dinner, she asked him why he liked that one.</p><p class="p4">“Because,” he’d said, waving a spatula at her with that knowing smile of his, “if you listen, he’s actually giving very good advice.”</p><p class="p4">Iris had blinked at him, marvelling once more at how her father always seemed like he had learned the secrets of the word merely by lending an open ear and sidling up to its keepers with something sweet. “What’s the advice?”</p><p class="p4">“You always have to find your sunshine on a cloudy day, baby. Now, for me, that’s you and your mother. It gets me through the day whenever someone complains about the pies, or when Lawrence burns the pastries, or when your Great-Aunty Mildred makes the potato salad. You have to find that thing that makes you smile everyday, that makes all the small, terrible things worth it. Do you have that?”</p><p class="p4">And Iris smiled and said yes, she did, she had brownies, and they laughed and she watched him make dinner. Because the fact that she was in love with the beautiful green-eyed boy two streets over was something that she was keeping all to herself.</p><p class="p4">The thing is, she hadn’t even known that she was in love with Barry Allen at first. She just remembers that first day of kindergarten, when she had tripped over her shoelaces while running and tried really hard not to cry even though her hand was bleeding, because she wanted to be like her mom, who never, ever cried. Everyone was so excited to get to real-life big kids jungle gym that nobody noticed her, which was making her throat tight and her glasses fog up, a sure sign that she was about to burst into tears.</p><p class="p4">Right then a boy in a red tee came and knelt next to her. “Are you okay?”he asked, touching her arm gently. “Do you want to go inside?”</p><p class="p4">That was it, she thinks in the present. As Iris walks to Jitters to meet Linda after her meeting, she remembers that the thing with Barry Allen is that he always treated her like she was precious. He was always so gentle and sweet with her that she didn’t think she could have helped falling in love with him any more than she could have stopped the sun from coming up. From the very first moment he spoke to her, the very first time she looked into his eyes, she felt like she’d been hit by lightning. He had tied her shoelaces for her and then taken her hand to lead her to the nurse’s office, not noticing that Iris felt like her whole world was spinning on its axis.</p><p class="p4">“I’m Barry,” he’d said cheerfully, grinning at her. “What’s your name?”</p><p class="p4">“Hi, Barry,” she’d said. “I’m Iris.”</p><p class="p4">“I like your glasses, Iris.”</p><p class="p4">“Thanks.”</p><p class="p4">He had grinned at her again, and when they got to the nurse’s office he held her hand the entire time that the nurse cleaned her injury and wrapped it in a bandage. Then, when they both got stickers (Iris for being brave and Barry for being a good buddy), they sort of just...became friends. She soon noticed that Barry is just that kind of person, that he’s wonderful to everyone, but she still felt like she actually knew what all those princesses in Disney movies felt like when they sang about love. When he smiled at her she felt like her whole heart stopped beating.</p><p class="p4"> </p><p class="p4">They stayed together for most of grade school, but then in fifth grade they merged with another local elementary and they got put in different grade classes since their school was so big. Then they sort of gravitated to their own friendship circles, and then by the time they were in middle school they didn’t really speak apart from to smile at each other in the corridor.</p><p class="p4">She savoured them, though, because a smile from Barry Allen was like walking on clouds.</p><p class="p4">So when her dad talked about the sunshine that got you through the day, she already knew what hers was. And she hadn’t been greedy, hadn’t wanted more when it came to him. She was pretty much content to love him from afar, at least for a while, until she womaned up and spoke to him. Which she did, eventually, and it was great, until-</p><p class="p4">Anyway. Her dad had been killed months after that, and then she’d had to move in with her cousin Wally because the police thought her mother did it and she was in prison. She left Central City High and went to City Tech, which was three hours and a whole river away. And, yes, maybe she had cried herself to sleep on Homecoming and every night for weeks afterwards, but the important thing was that <em>he</em> didn’t see her cry. She told herself that she would meet someone who made her feel even <em>more</em> than Barry Allen ever made her feel, even though she didn’t really believe it. So when, a little less than two years later, her mother got out of prison and she went to college, she was determined to find someone who would. And if she occasionally thought about what would have happened to them if they still were best friends, if she could have had the possibility of more, well, it just made her more determined to try.</p><p class="p4">Iris fingers her necklace, a gold lighting bolt on a thin gold chain, as she walks to Jitters. It had been a birthday present from her father, and she’d honestly been surprised that he remembered. She’d loved lightning storms growing up, and had talked about them for hours, but she always thought he’d tuned her out when she did.</p><p class="p4">“It’s very important that you take care of this, baby,” he’d said seriously. “Never, ever let it out of your sight.”</p><p class="p4">She figured he was just being weird about getting her two gifts. He’d died soon after that, and she hadn’t taken it off since. She has to send it to a special store in Coast City to get it polished, and it doesn’t really go with all her outfits, but she never feels like herself without it. Her only rule is that she never wears it to parties, because then she might lose it. She'd only gotten it back yesterday and she'd missed wearing it.</p><p class="p4">“Iris!”</p><p class="p4">She smiles as she opens the door to Jitters and spots Eddie, the manager. They’ve been friends since freshman year, when she took one look at him and how ridiculously beautiful he was and decided that he was going to be the guy to finally make her forget about Barry Allen. That is, until their disastrous first date had been marked with an even more disastrous, chemistry-less first kiss, and Iris had finally spared them both and admitted they should probably just be friends. Thankfully Eddie agreed, and now she gets to hear the stories of his ridiculously bougie family whenever she’s down.</p><p class="p4">(Eddie is another one who knows about Barry, because she was once so upset that she was still thinking about Barry after breaking up with her first boyfriend that she got drunk and told him about the guy she fell in love with in high school. Not his name, though, and he’s sworn to secrecy.)</p><p class="p4">“Hey, Eddie,” she smiles cheerfully. Most people don’t have classes right now but people are making their way back onto campus, so there’s a steady flow of people being served by Tracy and Rod, the two baristas. Eddie’s the manager and works while he gets his degree in criminology.He comes from behind the counter to hug her. “How are you? How was your summer?”</p><p class="p4">“I met yet more of my relatives who were apparently alive during Prohibition and I hate them. It was hell. How was yours? That’s right, you barely got one, because you spent all your time here.”</p><p class="p4">Iris just laughs. Eddie is part of the illustrious Thawne family, on his fathers side, though a surname is all they share. Eddie’s dad ran off and married his mother, a teacher, right out of college, forgoing the family fortune and the spot that had been reserved for him on the board of directors for the Thawne Hotel &amp; Resort Empire. So now Eddie’s kind of the black sheep of the family, though he doesn’t seem to care, though he still has to go to the yearly family reunion.</p><p class="p4">“Shut up! I have a competition to win, remember?”</p><p class="p4">“Yeah, yeah. Just - try and have some fun this year?” He hands her a coffee, waving away her protests. “Iris, you eat your body weight in brownies here every week. You can have a free coffee. Linda’s upstairs, I’ll come see you in a minute.”</p><p class="p4">Linda is in their favourite spot on the balcony overlooking the bottom floor, well-placed for people watching. She perks up when she sees Iris, who settles into the booth and tries to ignore the eager look on her friends face. Linda is one of three people on earth who knows the whole story of how she got her heart broken by Barry Allen, but what she knows stops at high school. It doesn’t cover what happened when Iris walked out of orientation on her first day and saw him making out with his girlfriend on the quad.</p><p class="p4">Ex. Ex-girlfriend.</p><p class="p4">“Okay, so spill,” Linda says quickly. “I’ve been waiting for this all morning.”</p><p class="p4">“Morning, Lin,” Iris says sardonically, “how are you? My day’s been great so far, thank you.”</p><p class="p4">“Iris, come on. You slept with-”</p><p class="p4">“<em>Linda</em>.”</p><p class="p4">Her friend gives her a guilty look. “Sorry.”</p><p class="p4">That’s the other thing about sleeping with Barry Allen - he’s kind of a hot topic around here at the moment. She doesn’t want it getting out that she’s the girl he picked to rebound from Patty Spivot, because she can only imagine what #spottedatccu will say about her. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat.</p><p class="p4">“Look, it’s nothing major,” she says finally. “I just try not to do anything that would put me in the same vicinity as him.”</p><p class="p4">Linda frowns. “Yeah, but how exactly did you manage that? I mean I know campus is big, but isn’t he really close with Felicity and Oliver?“</p><p class="p4">Iris wrinkles her nose. After that first time, when she saw Barry and Patty and promptly run off in the opposite direction, she went home to her laptop and looked him up on Facebook, her heart slamming against her ribcage the whole time. She hadn’t allowed herself to do that after she left for City Tech, because then she might’ve done something really stupid, like message him and pour her heart out. But now he was in front of her, and her heart felt like it was actually going to burst.</p><p class="p4">According to Facebook, Barry Allen was studying criminal psychology at Central City University, though he was interested in journalism. He was in a relationship with Patty Spivot (Iris deduced that they must have met at the journalism summer school that freshman got to go to, because it was on both of their pages), and he lived in the Mountdown Building. The only mutual friends they had were from high school, and Iris didn’t even talk to those people anymore. But then, as the weeks wore on, they started to meet some of the same people - Cisco, Felicity and Laurel for a few, and then she met Ronnie and Oliver and Tommy through them, and then she was counting down the days when someone would try to introduce them and she would have to find a black hole to crawl into.</p><p class="p4">So, when she gets invited to places where she knows Barry will go, she either declines or, if it’s a big enough party that she can spot him and then run, hang out for as little time as possible. A small part of her knows that this means she isn’t really over him, but she’s always reasoned that she’s just trying to avoid an awkward confrontation. Which she’s failed at, granted, but hey, it worked for two years, right? She should give herself credit.</p><p class="p4">Iris relays all this to Linda, who whistles. “Wait, is this why you left Felicity’s birthday party early? And why you didn’t come to the law mixer Laurel invited us to?”</p><p class="p4">“Barry and Oliver are on the athletics team,” she points out, “that’s how he met her. And Patty does law too, and if there’s one place I didn’t want to see him again it was in front of his new girlfriend.”</p><p class="p4">“And - wait. Is that why you never come in here at night?”</p><p class="p4">“Barry’s friends with Eddie, I heard him mention it once. Barry comes in at night.”</p><p class="p4">(She absolutely does not mention that she remembers this from when they were teenagers, and Barry always said that hot cocoa always tastes best at night, and they used to have it when they watched movies together, because that would make her look as pathetic as she feels). Linda sits back.</p><p class="p4">“Wow.”</p><p class="p4">Iris looks down into her coffee, feeling wilted and a little raw. She wants Linda to laugh at her, to make fun of the mess she’s made of her past self’s love life. But she isn’t, she looks sad instead, which makes Iris feel worse.</p><p class="p4">“He...He really hurt you, didn’t he?”</p><p class="p4">“Well, I don’t think he meant it,” she laughs dryly, pushing her glasses up her nose. “But yeah.”</p><p class="p4">Linda bites her lip. “I - you’ve only told me this once, and I don’t want-”</p><p class="p4">“It’s fine,” she interrupts. She takes a breath. “We didn’t really talk after elementary school, and then in high school one day I found him hanging out after class, and I asked him what was up, and he said he failed a test and needed a tutor. So then I offered to do it and we...we got really close, again, and when he passed his final, he - he asked me if I wanted to go to Homecoming with him. Not - he wanted to go as friends,” she points out quickly, looking down. “But I was excited, you know? So I bought a dress, and I bought shoes, and then the day of the dance, right before I was going to get my hair done after school, he texted me that he didn’t want to go anymore. And then on Monday I found out that he went with Becky Cooper, so...”</p><p class="p4">Iris shrugs lightly, as if merely mentioning that awful week doesn’t feel like driving hot nails into her heart. She does remember thinking, when she saw Barry and Patty together, that his type hasn’t changed because, with her cornflower blue eyes, light blonde hair, and long, long legs, she’s just a tall version of Becky Cooper.</p><p class="p4">(Infinitely nicer, though, which Iris hates - though she <em>had</em> formed this opinion before the whole video situation, so.)</p><p class="p4">She doesn’t tell her the rest of it. How they’d spent everyday after school together, watching TV or playing board games or just doing their homework together. How he would show up every morning on her front step, all long limbs and tousled hair and goofy grin, to walk her to school, and even came to visit her when she was sick. How they spent so much time together that her day would feel hollow without him, like something fundamental was missing when she didn’t see him. And all the while the truth would work its way into her throat, all the while she’d think <em>I love you, I love you, don’t you know</em>? but she’d never been able to say it. She doesn’t say that her heart had ached for Barry Allen for so long that she isn’t sure it’ll ever go away.</p><p class="p4">“Jeez,” Linda mutters, bringing her back to the present. “I mean, Iris, are you sure you don’t want me to fuck with him a little? He sounds like he used to be an ass. Maybe the whole nice guy thing is an act.”</p><p class="p4">“He’s not an ass,” she says loyally, even though she’s not really sure who she’s being loyal to. “Maybe he’s grown up since then. He just - I don’t know, I guess he just found someone better he’d rather spend his time with.”</p><p class="p4">“Nobody’s better than you,” Linda says firmly, and Iris smiles.</p><p class="p4">“Thanks, Lin. Anyway, you can go ahead and be nice to him, it was a long time ago. Besides, he’s kind of going through a hard time himself.”</p><p class="p4">Linda sipped her coffee. “You wouldn’t know it to look at him, though.”</p><p class="p4">“Really?”</p><p class="p4">“Yeah. I mean, he was just really nice and funny. Not like the kind of guy who would...do that. Still hung up on his ex, so he’s kind of sad, but nice. Maybe you could talk to him?”</p><p class="p4">Iris shakes her head. There is absolutely no need for that level of awkward. “No, no way. What am I going to say? ‘I’m the girl you dumped on Homecoming, want to get coffee?’ Besides, if he does remember who I am, he’s probably trying to avoid me, too.”</p><p class="p4">“Iris, come on. He remembers you. So, how was it?”</p><p class="p4">Iris bites her lip and blushes so hard she’s not sure her skin can hide it. “Patty Spivot,” she says, “is <em>criminally stupid</em>.”</p><p class="p4">“That good?”</p><p class="p4">“Linda, you see me wearing a turtleneck, right? Have you seen his hands?”</p><p class="p4">It honestly figures that the best sex of her life would be with a guy who doesn’t even remember who she is, and who she used to be completely crazy about in high school. She thinks of the way Barry had pushed her against the door, how he’d cupped her jaw and tilted her head up to kiss him, methodically like he was drinking in something delicious and wanted to savour it. Savour <em>her</em>.</p><p class="p4">Okay, maybe she’s in a little trouble.</p><p class="p4">“Oh my god, Iris, you have fanny flutter face!” Linda lets out a delighted squeal. “You totally want to fuck him again, I know you do.”</p><p class="p4">“Okay, yeah, sure, I can admit that.” She’d woken up feeling more satisfied and relaxed than she felt in weeks - you know, before the all-consuming panic set in - and she’s woman enough to admit that Barry really knows that he’s doing. She puts her head in her hands. “I do, <em>God</em>, Linda he - I’m pretty sure Laurel could hear me through her ceiling.”</p><p class="p4">“She could. She messaged me.”</p><p class="p4">“I hate you both.”</p><p class="p4">They giggle and Iris shrugs. “Ass in the past or not, he’s a great stress-reliever.”</p><p class="p4">Linda thinks on this for a moment. “Okay,” she says slowly. “But, like, hypothetically. If you didn’t have all this tortured history with him, and he wasn’t on the rebound, and all that. You think you could use him for...stress-relief?”</p><p class="p4">Iris tilts her head. She’s never been one for the whole friends with benefits-type deal - she always figured that totally put-together, insanely confident girls like Sara Lance did that. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess I could be up for it. Barry wouldn’t to, though, I’m pretty sure he never wants to see my again. If it was...Kyle, maybe?”</p><p class="p4">“Iris, shut up, you know that wouldn’t have worked with him. He bored you.”</p><p class="p4">“He did not bore me! He was...nice.”</p><p class="p4">“He <em>was</em> nice,” Linda agrees. “And boring. And you broke up with him for science. And you weren’t even sad about it.”</p><p class="p4">She had, indeed, broken up with Kyle for science. After what felt like their millionth fight about how much time she was spending on her research, she’d finally decided to end it. And she still didn’t even feel bad about it, because honestly, if she would rather read thousands of pages of research on tachyons than hang out with her boyfriend, maybe she shouldn’t have a boyfriend. “Whatever. The point is, it was fun, and now I have to go back to avoiding him. And he’s going to think I’m a headcase because when he didn’t know who I was, I just went along with it.”</p><p class="p4">“Went along with what?” Eddie asks, sliding in next to Linda. Iris blinks.</p><p class="p4">“Linda thinks I should get a fuck buddy.”</p><p class="p4">“You <em>should</em> get a fuck buddy.”</p><p class="p4">“Do the two of you sit around discussing my sex life when I’m not looking?”</p><p class="p4">Eddie bites into the biscotti he’s brought them. “When it’s fun. So, who are we thinking? Not Kyle, right?”</p><p class="p4">Linda shakes her head. “Nah, he was-”</p><p class="p4">“Boring,” Eddie nods. “Cute, but boring.”</p><p class="p4">Iris hits him. “Can we talk about something else?”</p><p class="p4">“We can talk about my first day,” Linda suggests, and both Eddie and Iris perk up. Linda grins.</p><p class="p4">“Okay, well, everyone’s great. I think they’re just happy they don’t have to draw straws for who has to cover the sports events anymore. Cat’s a little insane, but everyone already knew that, but the team seems really close. Well, as close as they can be. My desk is between Kamilla and Kara, who is, like, insanely charming. I think I have a crush on her.”</p><p class="p4">Eddie sips his coffee. “Everyone has a crush on Kara. Glad you’re having fun, though. Who are you reporting into?”</p><p class="p4">“Well, Kara and Barry are co-editors in chief of print, and Cat runs everything, so them, mostly. But I do have to give my main points to Thad, Patty and Scott for the bulletin for CCU-TV.”</p><p class="p4">Iris tenses, very slightly, at the mention of Thad’s name. Thankfully, neither of them have noticed. Eddie rolls his eyes. “On behalf of the few sane Thawnes in the family, I’m sorry.” Linda bites her lip.</p><p class="p4">“I really want to say he’s not that bad, but he did this thing where he has to one-up everything I said. Like, he <em>has</em> to have the last word. It was like talking to a...well, like an over-privileged white dude.”</p><p class="p4">“If you want to piss him off, eat strawberry jello in front of him. When we were kids, he ate like, a whole vat of the stuff at the state fair and then went on a rollercoaster.” Eddie laughs darkly. “There’s still a whole town in North Central that calls him ‘The Scarlett Barfer’.”</p><p class="p4">“Noted.” Linda pauses. “Barry’s really nice-”</p><p class="p4">“No.”</p><p class="p4">“Eddie-”</p><p class="p4">“Linda - <em>Linda</em>,” he warns. “Barry is my friend. I am not going to talk about his relationship to people, especially given... everything.”</p><p class="p4">“You know who else is really nice?” she continues. “Patty. Which is why I can’t believe she was so brutal. I mean, she dumped him at work!”</p><p class="p4">Iris notices, as Linda tries to get Eddie to talk and he refuses, that her friend keeps looking at her. She needn’t bother. Iris’ Barry Allen Poker Face is unbreakable. It worked through all the times people asked her if she liked any of the guys in class, when her first boyfriend wanted to know why her favourite colour is green, and during that first period on Monday morning when Becky Cooper kept going on about how good of a kisser Barry was.</p><p class="p4">(Granted, the poker face had slipped a little but no one could prove that Iris put the dead frog on Becky’s chair.)</p><p class="p4">“Look, I’m all for getting rid of the things that don’t make you happy,” Linda says, “but Patty knows she’s trading down, right?” Eddie shrugs.</p><p class="p4">“Patty seems happy.”</p><p class="p4">“Did she get bored? Is Barry, like, boring?”</p><p class="p4">“As a friend, I’ve never found him boring.” Linda glares at him.</p><p class="p4">“I hate how nice you are.”</p><p class="p4">“I’m going to heaven. I don’t care.” Eddie seems to notice that Iris hasn’t spoken. “How was your meeting?”</p><p class="p4">“Well,” she sighs, “I have a ton more research to do, I need to talk to Felicity about helping me build a new simulator, and I’m pretty much going to be living in the lab because I them to be empty.”</p><p class="p4">Eddie pauses. “So your fuck buddy has to do it with you in the lab?”</p><p class="p4">“I’m sure we could get someone to do it with Iris in the lab.”</p><p class="p4">Iris looks at the ceiling. “I need new friends.”</p><p class="p4">“What you need,” Linda says, “is a <em>fuck bu</em>-”</p><p class="p4">Iris throws a biscotti at her.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em>Tweet from @applebear98: #spottedatccu in fairness to patty tho…</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>Reply from @neganthestallion96: here we fucking go</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>Reply from @applebear: hear me out! we don’t know the whole story! you don’t think planning a surprise for someone like that is kind of manipulative?</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>Reply from @michelbaejordans: its not like he was proposing to her. the banners said happy anniversary</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>Reply from @neganthestallion96: she basically dumped him on TV. I was in the library. Everyone stopped to watch</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>Reply from @applebear98: yeah but she clearly didn’t know it would be broadcast everywhere</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>Reply from @biryanibae3: also patty’s so nice, i’ve met her. They were clearly having problems before, she even said</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>Reply from @tomhiddlebae: omg what is this discourse leave him alone</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>Reply from @neganthestallion96: and he said she wasn’t talking to him, what was he supposed to do?</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>Reply from @DrTimDaly: Perhaps you should pay attention in class unless you’d like to leave with an F?</em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">When Barry arrives back home that morning, he’s glad to see everyone is still asleep. He slips into the shower quickly, trying and failing not to think of the fact that he has to go into the paper for a meeting today and face Patty and <em>Thad</em>. They have a new sports reporter starting today and Barry is supposed to show her the ropes.</p><p class="p4">Now that the whole thing with Iris (Iris <em>West</em>, Jesus) has worn off and he’s sober and not distracting himself, that slow burn of humiliation settles in his stomach again, just like it had on that Tuesday when he’d realised that this was real, that his girlfriend of two years was, indeed, dumping him at work, and a week later when saw her out with the hunky news anchor from work whose jawline has its own Twitter page. And now he has to go into the office and pretend that he doesn’t feel like someone has driven a stake into his heart.</p><p class="p4">Barry gets dressed and almost collides with Oliver as he heads to the kitchen. He looks awful, and squints at Barry with an accusatory expression.</p><p class="p4">“You just get here?”</p><p class="p4">“No, I’ve been here all night,” he lies smoothly. “How are you doing?”</p><p class="p4">“Why did we have so many Irish car bombs?”</p><p class="p4">Barry grins as Oliver puts his head in his hands. Cisco wanders out of his room in his pyjamas, long hair tied up in a ponytail. “Dude,” he says by way of greeting. “You look rough. How was the party?”</p><p class="p4">“Eventful,” Barry says, handing Oliver back his phone. He stares at it.</p><p class="p4">“Ah.”</p><p class="p4">“<em>There</em> it is.”</p><p class="p4">“Thanks, for not letting me...”</p><p class="p4">“No problem. Just stay away from Laurel, for now, okay? She’s going to send you another noise complaint fine if you keep this up.”</p><p class="p4">“Uh-huh. And tell Iris I said sorry. I must have ruined her whole night.”</p><p class="p4">“Iris was here?” Cisco asks, and Barry whips around to look at him.</p><p class="p4">“How do you know Iris?”</p><p class="p4">“Dude, everyone knows Iris,” Cisco replies, looking at him like he’s an idiot. “She’s, like, one of Felicity’s best friends. She’s in my intermediate engineering class - and, oh yeah, she’s up for one of the biggest scientific awards in the country.”</p><p class="p4">At Barry’s blank look, Cisco rolls his eyes and grabs Oliver’s phone, tapping at the keys, before showing the screen to him.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em>CENTRAL CITY UNIVERSITY STUDENT UP FOR PRESTIGIOUS AWARD</em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">
  <em>Iris West, 20, has been announced as the penultimate finalist of the Harrison Wells Prize for Excellence in Scientific Research. West, who double-majors in biology and chemistry with a minor in physics, becomes not only the first student at Central City University to be considered, but the youngest student of all time to be chosen as a finalist. Speaking to Central City University News....</em>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">“Wait, we did this?” Barry frowns. “When?”</p><p class="p4">“March, when she was announced. Scott did the copy. You were on vacation, I think.”</p><p class="p4">Barry’s heart sinks. Right. He and Patty had gone to Minnesota to visit her family. He continues reading. It jut says a lot about her research and then mentions that she hopes to get a masters in forensics, which Barry remembers her talking about when they were friends. Barry gives the phone back to Oliver, and Cisco stares at him.</p><p class="p4">“Why all the questions, padawan?”</p><p class="p4">“Uh - nothing. I just hung with her yesterday, and Oliver - It’s nothing.”</p><p class="p4">He thinks Cisco is going to ask him more questions but he just shrugs. “Whatever. Up and at em, Cat moved the meeting up so she can go to Metropolis this afternoon.” Barry frowns.</p><p class="p4">“Did I know that?”</p><p class="p4">“It was in the group chat, so...”</p><p class="p4">“Right.” Barry had muted that chat after it happened. “Great. I’ll be ready in ten, you?”</p><p class="p4">“Give me fifteen. Hey, Queen! Shower, then aspirin, you smell like the distillery your dad owns.”</p><p class="p4">Oliver gives him he finger and Barry laughs. Curtis, their other roommate, is a computer science major who leaves his room as little as possible, and a Tommy is still in Star City. Thankfully, no one seems to have realised that Barry snuck in an hour ago.</p><p class="p4">Twenty minutes later, Kara meets them outside the building, armed with coffee and pastries, and they fall back into the easy rapport they developed when they met at the journalism tasters in freshman year. Cisco had been there to pitch a radio show about science - that Cat still can’t believe it’s popular - and Kara had essentially shown up because of how much she loves Cat. And even though Cat makes sure to tell everyone that they’re all incompetent idiots who shame the profession of journalism, there must be a reason she hasn’t kicked them all out of the building.</p><p class="p4">“Do we know why she’s in Metropolis?” Cisco asks, taking a large bite of his Danish. Kara nods.</p><p class="p4">“Yeah, there’s some big journalism conference happening there. You know she won’t be able to resist snarking at Mason Treadwell. My cousin and his girlfriend are going to be there, too.”</p><p class="p4">“Clark?” Barry says, perking up. “Clark is going to be there?”</p><p class="p4">“Yes, Barry, Clark is going to be there, and yes, Barry, he knows that you think he’s amazing. Leave me alone.”</p><p class="p4">He grins at her. “But you’ll tell me, if-”</p><p class="p4">“Yes, Barry, I will tell you if he comes into town. I find that highly unlikely because Lex Luthor is still doing...whatever it is he likes to do, and Superman is always busy, which means Lois is busy, too. You are very lucky that I love you.”</p><p class="p4">“As hilarious as Barry’s crush on your cousin is,” Cisco says as they turn the corner to the Young Building, where the newsrooms are, “he’s right. Clark Kent has hair that’s almost as good as mine.”</p><p class="p4">Barry slows and comes to a stop, his stomach roiling again. People have only just stopped staring at him - mostly - since he’d marched out of the building and thrown the flower petals and chocolates and heart-shaped balloons in the trash. But that’s the thing he hates most about all this. He used to love coming here everyday to work on stories and hang out with his friends. Now it’s just the site of the most humiliating day of his life.</p><p class="p4">Iris <em>West</em>-</p><p class="p4">Well, second-most.</p><p class="p4">Kara and Cisco share a look and he rolls his shoulders. “I’m fine, guys,” he calls to them on the steps. “Just - I’ll be inside in a sec.”</p><p class="p4">“This last croissant is yours,” Cisco says, and they walk back inside. Barry takes another deep breath. It’s moments like these when he wishes he had a best friend. That deep, unbreakable, read-your-mind kind. Like a soul-friend. He had plenty of normal friends, but nobody like that. Cisco has Ronnie , Oliver has Tommy, Kara has Nia, Laurel has Sara <em>and</em> Felicity...he’s always been jealous that he’d never made it out of high school with one of those. Or, more accurately, how he’d somehow managed to mess it up. He could really use someone to talk to. Even Patty has her best friend, Amunet, to unload on, and who has already made it painfully clear that in the face of their breakup Barry is dead to her.</p><p class="p4">“You’re an adult, Barry,” he mutters to himself, walking up the stairs. “You’ve been through worse.” People still stare at him, but he’s gotten better at ignoring them. Mostly.</p><p class="p4">Everyone is watching Cat’s office when he arrives, which is closed. He makes his way to his desk and chases Cisco off it. “What’s going on?”</p><p class="p4">“New sports stringer,” Kamilla whispers. She offers Barry a grape. “I hope she’s fun, I’m sick of hanging out with all of you when you clearly don’t want to be there.”</p><p class="p4">“Well, she survived the interview with Cat, that has to count for something,” Cisco says. He smoothes his hair down and leans over to Kamilla.</p><p class="p4">“And we weren’t all bad, were we? We had fun at the softball game, when Alex scored that touchdown?”</p><p class="p4">“Home run,” Barry and Kara say at the same time. She nudges him.</p><p class="p4">“Hey, how was that party? Did you have fun?”</p><p class="p4">“It was fun, except Oliver got so drunk that he tried to serenade Felicity, and Iris and I had to drag him back home.”</p><p class="p4">“Iris? I haven’t seen her since last semester, how is she?” Barry just stares at her.</p><p class="p4">“How do <em>you</em> know Iris?”</p><p class="p4">“Barry. <em>Everyone</em> knows Iris. She’s friends with my sister, I met her at the Boggle Tournament last year.”</p><p class="p4">He feels an odd twisting in his gut. First of all, this must be what she meant when she said she has to go back to avoiding him. He hasn’t seen her since they were kids, but she’s apparently been avoiding him the entire time they’ve been at college. Also, <em>they</em> used to play Boggle. He’s the one who taught her how.</p><p class="p4">“Oh,” he says right as Cat opens the door and walks out, the new stringer in tow. Cat takes off her sunglasses and looks around at them.</p><p class="p4">“Park, this is everyone. Chipper and cheerful is Hwang, chipper and glasses is Danvers, the one with the pastries is Ramon, and the tall one is Allen. Spivot will be in later, Raymond will be here tomorrow, and you met Evans and Thawne during the interviews. Everyone, this is Park. She is smart and hardworking, try not to ruin her with your laziness. Allen!”</p><p class="p4">Barry sits up. “Yes?”</p><p class="p4">“Show Park around, then you and Danvers can brief her on her assignments. Her desk is next to yours. When you’re done, come into my office at eleven.”</p><p class="p4">With that, she turns on her heel and disappears into her office, slamming the door behind her. The new girl smiles. “Um. You can all call me Linda.”</p><p class="p4">Everyone surges forward to greet her, Barry hanging back so as not to overwhelm her. “I’m Barry,” he says, shaking her hand. There’s that jolt of recognition that she quickly tries to hide, but there’s really no point. Accidentally making a breakup video and then having it go viral amongst your classmates will do that. “Kara did your interview with the others, but she and I edit together. I also do crime and special interest, which is basically means the stuff no one else wants to take. Do you have any questions?”</p><p class="p4">“Can we pitch stuff?” Barry nods.</p><p class="p4">“Yeah, so we usually get our assignments once a week, and then we can pitch whatever we want so long as we have space. Kara and I will pretty much take anything you want, so...” Barry trails off, his eyes flicking upwards. He feels a slow flush creep up his neck as Patty walks in, laughing at something that Thad has said, who comes through the door behind her. Almost instinctively Patty looks at him and the smile drops off her face. Barry rolls his shoulders and clears his throat, and when he glances back at Linda again she’s giving him a sad look.</p><p class="p4">“Ah. Sorry. Where was I?”</p><p class="p4">“Assignments.”</p><p class="p4">“Right. So as long as you can justify it and we have space, we’ll probably put it in.”</p><p class="p4">“That’s a lie-”</p><p class="p4">“As long as we have space and it doesn’t cause any <em>Star Wars</em> reenactment groups to leave stink bombs in the offices of this paper,” Barry continues smoothly, not looking at Cisco, “it will go in. Ready for the tour?”</p><p class="p4">“Sure.”</p><p class="p4">Barry tries and fails not to glance at Patty again, who’s sitting on the other side of Kara. They go in the room across the hall. “So, this is the radio studio. Cisco does his radio show and we usually get the medics to come in once a week to do the Agony Aunt letters, but we’re hoping to get more. And over here is the photos room, Kamilla does her thing here. She’s nice, but I wouldn’t touch anything here. That’s the printing room and if we go up the stairs...” Barry leads her up a staircase at the end of the hall and opens the door at the top.</p><p class="p4">“We have the broadcast room,” he finishes. Linda walks around the room, even as the feeling in his stomach becomes almost painful. “Patty, Scott and Thad spend most of their time here, prepping for the broadcasts and the bulletins, but we can get you up here if you want.”</p><p class="p4">It’s a beautiful room with long, full length windows that let in sunlight on nice days, with all the equipment at the opposite room to the desk. It had taken him three hours to arrange the flowers, put up the streamers, and arrange all the candy. It took Patty twenty minutes, once she was decidedly not surprised by the surprise he’d planned for her, to explain in excruciating detail that she didn’t love him any more, that they hadn’t worked for months. And then it took two minutes after they’d stopped arguing for both Barry and Patty to realise that Trevor the video guy had accidentally left on the livestream from earlier in the day, so their whole breakup had just been broadcast on the CCUN website.</p><p class="p4">“...Barry?”</p><p class="p4">Linda is waving her fingers in front of his face, and he shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m - Sorry, Linda, did you have another question?”</p><p class="p4">She pauses for a moment. “You’re really going through it, aren’t you?”</p><p class="p4">“I’ve been better,” he shrugs. “But I’m...Whatever.”</p><p class="p4">“Well, I didn’t have any other questions, but we don’t have to go back downstairs yet. If you need a break.”</p><p class="p4">“Thanks,” he laughs, looking down at his shoes. “So, Kara tells me you guys are in the same politics classes?”</p><p class="p4">“Yeah, and I’m thinking of adding some journalism classes this year so I can make it a minor like she has. You?”</p><p class="p4">“Criminal psychology. I’m thinking of being a detective, like my mom, but she’s not so hot on the idea. You live around campus?”</p><p class="p4">Linda gives him a small smile. “I live on Kilter Street. Big redbrick with the double chimneys?”</p><p class="p4">Barry frowns, and then remembers <em>Linda’s always right, I kind of hate that about her?</em> His gaze snaps up to hers. “Oh. <em>Linda</em>.”</p><p class="p4">Her answering smile tells him she probably knows everything that happened between him and Iris. Well, that makes one of them. He rubs the back of his head. “Look, you can tell Iris I’m not planning on telling anyone about last night, she doesn’t have to worry. I don’t want to make anything awkward.”</p><p class="p4">“I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear that, but you can just tell her yourself. She doesn’t bite.”</p><p class="p4">Barry shakes his head immediately, recoiling at the idea. “It’s fine. I don’t think we’ll be running into each other any time soon. Thanks, though. So. How mad was Laurel?”</p><p class="p4">“Not that bad,” Linda admits. “I think it may be a kind of delayed reaction thing, though, because when I left I don’t think Laurel saw the mess he’d made of the lawn. Whatever, Sara can do Felicity relationship duty next, Iris and I do it all the time and I’m <em>tired</em>.”</p><p class="p4">“You think that’s bad? Who do you think had to teach Oliver not to talk in monosyllables? And how to flirt with people? And who told him to apologise with flowers in the first place?”</p><p class="p4">“Barry,” Linda snorts, her hand over her mouth, “do not tell me Oliver stealing flowers from Mrs Stein’s garden and then accosting Iris with them was your idea!”</p><p class="p4">“I told him to apologise! The flowers were all him!”</p><p class="p4">“Think that’ll hold up in a court of Laurel?”</p><p class="p4">They’re still hooting when they get back to the office, and the first thing that Barry notices is that everyone starts staring at him when he comes in. When he looks over and sees that both Thad and Patty’s desks are empty, his heart sinks. Suddenly, he knows exactly what the meeting is about. Kara comes up to them both, notepad in hand. “Hey, guys. How was the tour?”</p><p class="p4">“Good, Barry was really helpful,” Linda answers, and he shoots her a grateful smile because he was pretty much useless. Kara nods.</p><p class="p4">“Great. So, um, Barry, why don’t you go in and have your meeting, and I can brief Linda.”</p><p class="p4">She gives him a meaningful look and he sighs inwardly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you guys in a sec.”</p><p class="p4">Patty and Thad are already sat on one side of Cat’s desk when he walks in and Cat makes him sit. He knows Patty’s nervous because she keeps tapping her foot, but Thad’s expression is carefully blank. Barry doesn’t trust it. Not anymore.</p><p class="p4">If Barry is honest with himself, he hadn’t really noticed that Thad started getting closer to Patty. Sure, he flirted with her, but he flirted with everyone in the office except Cat. But when they’d broken up, and he saw them out together at the Dirty Donut, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, well, that nipped any sort of good-feeling he had towards Thad right in the bud. Besides, the Dirty Donut is <em>his</em> place. Nobody else’s donuts compare, but now he has to find a new donut place.</p><p class="p4">“I didn’t want to have to call this meeting,” Cat says, taking off her glasses. “And you all know that I hate getting involved in anyone’s personal…business. But I wanted to set the record straight.” She pauses. “I know everyone here is a mature adult and I know that relationships are messy and complicated. So I just want everyone to remember that we all have a common goal here, which is getting news out. I know its unfortunate how things have…turned out, but I trust you all to maintain some professionalism. Alright?”</p><p class="p4">Barry frowns. As far as he can tell, he hasn’t been unprofessional at all, unless you count pretending that neither of them exist as unprofessional. And Cat never pays attention to anyone unless its affecting their work. Which means that one or both of them has raised this concern with Cat. One look at them confirms it. Barry takes a deep breath, trying to keep his temper.</p><p class="p4">“I’m fine with that,” he says quietly. “If you guys are.”</p><p class="p4">“I just don’t want to make things hard for you, Barry,” Patty says quickly. He looks at her. She looks so genuinely remorseful that he actually feels a little sorry for her. She’s never been the kind of person to hurt someone deliberately. “I’ve seen what they’re saying on-”</p><p class="p4">“Seen by CCU, yes,” Cat says irritably. “Apparently someone wanted to be Gossip Girl and could only make half the commitment. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do unless any of you start getting death threats, which-”</p><p class="p4">“No death threats,” Thad replied, waving a hand. He looks at Barry, who marvels at how much and how little he looks like his cousin. They are both fair, with those electric blue eyes and square, powerful jaws, though Thad has slightly lighter hair. But while Eddie has more open features, Thad’s face is a mask. Kara always jokes that he’d make a great card shark because he could sweet-talk you into giving away all your money. Barry thinks that just shark is accurate enough.</p><p class="p4">(Eddie, for his part, hates it. “Our genes are the worst; everyone in the family looks like my great-uncle Mumford.”)</p><p class="p4">“I just want to make sure nothing gets in the way of work,” he continues smoothly. He gives Barry a jovial smile. “But Barry’s a good guy, right? I’m sure he doesn’t take any of that stuff seriously.”</p><p class="p4">“Nope,” he says quietly. He can feel Cat’s and Patty’s eyes on him, so he decides to put them all out of their misery. “Look, it is what it is. But I haven’t let it get in the way of work, and I don’t plan to. So if there’s nothing else…”</p><p class="p4">“There’s nothing else,” Cat says after a minute. “Thawne, Spivot, you can go.”</p><p class="p4">Some of the tension leaves his shoulders after they have shut the door, and Cat studies him from behind steepled fingers. He blinks stupidly. “Um, if you-”</p><p class="p4">“Mm,” she says, gesturing for him to be quiet. Barry fidgets and is quiet for a minute. He remembers this look from his interview, how the blue-violet of her eyes seemed to sear right through him. Cat is short, with a sleek honey blonde bob and striking features, and as soon as he saw that look he saw how she frequently left the whole journalism industry quaking on a regular basis. Finally, she takes a folder from her desk and gives it to him. “Here. Someone vandalised a bunch of posters in the Stella Building. Possibly mindless nonsense, possibly something more. If you’re not up for it or you need time-”</p><p class="p4">“I’m up for it,” he says quickly, taking the folder. He grins as he reads the report that the campus police made. “Thanks, Cat, this-”</p><p class="p4">“Get out.”</p><p class="p4">His good mood lasts until he gets to the desk and he realises that everyone is looking at him again. Scratch that, <em>this</em> is worst part. Before that day, he was Barry Allen, ace reporter (okay, only Cisco calls him that, but its nice to have something to live up to), and nobody doubted him. Now he’s the guy who needs to be coddled, who’s in danger of acting “unprofessional”, who may not be up for investigating.</p><p class="p4">The worst part about this whole thing is that worse than being robbed of a relationship, he’s kind of been robbed of himself.</p><p class="p4">Barry sighs and clicks through his email. Kara has briefed Linda on all the upcoming games, and she’s excitedly getting to work as she chats away with Kamilla and Cisco. From the way Iris spoke, she and Linda have been friends since freshman year. She’s friends with Cisco and Kara, as well as all his other friends, which means she’s been putting a lot of effort into avoiding him for the past two years. Which means that she’s still mad at him.</p><p class="p4">Iris would have still been his best friend, he thinks, if he hadn’t done whatever it was that made her stop speaking to him.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">Iris tries as best she can to put Barry Allen out of her mind. Her advisor, Professor Stein, is expecting another simulation next week, which means she has to bribe Felicity to help her. Thankfully, given the fact that she’d saved his boyfriend from being impaled by Laurel, she’s only too happy to oblige. She squeezes her friends hand supportively.</p><p class="p4">“You’re totally going to win, Iris,” Felicity says. “I’m sure nobody is doing a simulation of tachyon particles and using it to explain how a person could run faster than the speed of sound.”</p><p class="p4">“Yeah, well I have Hartley, Victor Stone and Ryan Choi to beat. Plus my hypothesis is based on something widely contested in the scientific community-”</p><p class="p4">“Iris, chill! You’re supposed to be researching, not proving anything. Besides, who even are those guys?”</p><p class="p4">“Hartley’s parents are both leading physicists, Ryan Choi is building a suit that could defy the laws of weight and mass, and Victor Stone’s father is Silas Stone.”</p><p class="p4">She swallows. “The guy who builds things for the UN?”</p><p class="p4">“Uh-huh.” Felicity pauses.</p><p class="p4">“Maybe we make the simulation longer.”</p><p class="p4">Iris’ main goal, other than the competition, is keeping her GPA up - after her father died and her mother went to prison, her medical license had been stripped and a lot of their savings went to lawyers. Iris hadn’t wanted to use what was left for college, so she’d worked her ass off until she had at least three scholarships in place. They’re the reason she doesn’t have to take any jobs right now, and why her mother is currently on a cruise, not worrying about Iris paying rent.</p><p class="p4">She isn’t <em>planning</em> on seeing Barry Allen again, so she has no idea what to do when she does.</p><p class="p4">As far as Iris can tell, Barry doesn’t know any medics, and even so, the following Friday’s party is a huge blowout in one of the big sorority houses a few doors down from hers, and she’s one small person. How much would the universe hate her for them to run into each other again?</p><p class="p4">Sara and Laurel go with them this time (likely because Felicity has Oliver over, who has gotten his girlfriend to forgive him for whatever it was that he did), and Laurel spots someone from her course, yelling a hello before disappearing into a throng of people. Sara floats away once she hears that there’s a beer pong competition going on upstairs, dragging them with her, and then they do shots with some of Laurel’s law friends. Eventually someone gets the idea to do strip-poker, so Linda grabs them both drinks and starts picking out guys for Iris to be fuck buddies with. They move to the kitchen, which is loud enough to obscure their conversation, but not so loud they have to yell to be heard above the music.</p><p class="p4">“How about him?” she says, pointing. Iris looks and rolls her eyes.</p><p class="p4">“Linda. That guy is so not my type.”</p><p class="p4">“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you need to expand your type.”</p><p class="p4">“I think ‘beefy fratboy eating a burger with his whole face’ is a little too far.”</p><p class="p4">“Fair point. Okay, tall guy with glasses, three o’clock.”</p><p class="p4">“Oh God, no. Thats that beat poetry guy who called me a Nubian queen in freshman year. I’m hiding from him.” Iris leans against the counter, sipping her drink (she has very sensibly opted for rum and coke, given what happened last time with the vodka). “I don’t know, I kind of wish I could send out applications, you know? ‘Looking for fuck buddy, must be clean, no Trump supporters’.”</p><p class="p4">Linda shudders. “Tell me about it. I was on a date with a guy at a party last year, and then he starts talking to me about how he’s interning at Fox News. I told him I was going to the bathroom and slipped out the back to go to the Dirty Donut.”</p><p class="p4">She giggles. “Right? Like, how does anyone think that’s attractive?”</p><p class="p4">“The guys here are all so boring. I feel like I’m going to be alone forever.” Iris sips her drink and Linda narrows her eyes.</p><p class="p4">“Whats that look?”</p><p class="p4">“What look? This is my face.”</p><p class="p4">“Talk or I’m telling beat poetry guy that you want to sire his children.”</p><p class="p4">“Shut up!” Iris laughs. “Okay, look, Lin, you get bored really easily. You know that, right?”</p><p class="p4">“Oh, like that’s a bad thing? Besides, doesn’t Sara always say stop rewarding bad behaviour when it comes to guys? I think boring guys count.”</p><p class="p4">“No, I agree with you,” Iris says. “But, like, don’t worry about being alone forever. First of all, you won’t be, because I’ve seen like three guys who haven’t stopped staring at you since you got here. But, also, don’t forget that you’re not like…<em>limited</em> to Central City University. You’re going to see the whole wide world someday, you know? So don’t worry if you don’t find a guy here. It just means that he’s out there. Somewhere.”</p><p class="p4">(Iris also happens to know a guy who’s already head over heels for her but Wally has told her to stop meddling in his business.)</p><p class="p4">Linda’s chin wobbles and she pulls her into a hug, since they’re already the kind of drunk where everything is a little shinier and felt more deeply in your gut. “I love you, Iris.”</p><p class="p4">“I love you too.”</p><p class="p4">Someone comes by and offers them tequila shots, which have the effect of loosening Iris up even more. Eddie is right, she <em>should</em> have more fun this year. You’re only young once. She bites into the lime wedge and licks the salt off her hand, feeling a warm buzz settle comfortable in her stomach.</p><p class="p4">“Anyway,” Linda says. “If you want to know, I also know of a guy at this party who hasn’t stopped staring at you.”</p><p class="p4">“Who?”</p><p class="p4">“Barry.”</p><p class="p4">“What?” Iris squeaks, whipping round and almost slamming straight into some guys heading for the keg. Behind her, Linda giggles.</p><p class="p4">“You’re so easy. I thought you didn’t want to see him again.”</p><p class="p4">“I don’t! It would be weird!”</p><p class="p4">“So why do you look so excited?”</p><p class="p4">“Because I-”</p><p class="p4">“Pardon me?”</p><p class="p4">A tall brunette in a minidress and heels taps her politely on the shoulder. “Um,” she says. “Sorry to disturb you. I was wondering if you could help me?”</p><p class="p4">Iris and Linda share a look. “Sure,” they say together.</p><p class="p4">“If you - hypothetically - have been flirting with a guy for a few weeks, and you - hypothetically - threw this party as a way to get him to see you outside of your medic persona, would this dress be the right way to go about it?”</p><p class="p4">They study her. “What’s your name?” Linda asks. The girl raises her chin.</p><p class="p4">“Caitlin.”</p><p class="p4">“Well, Caitlin,” Iris says, “hypothetically, figuratively, and literally, if he doesn’t take notice of you in that, he’s not worth it. I say you’re golden.” She bites her lip, smoothing the dress down.</p><p class="p4">“You sure?”</p><p class="p4">“Absolutely.” Linda leans forward and brushes some hair off her shoulders. “You need to show off those collarbones, though. Go get em.”</p><p class="p4">“Thanks,” she smiles shyly. She makes to leave and then turns around again. “Oh! What were your names?”</p><p class="p4">“I’m Iris, she’s Linda.”</p><p class="p4">“Nice to meet you both. If you’re ever in the ER, just say you’re a friend of Caitlin’s. Hopefully, you won’t have to need it.”</p><p class="p4">She disappears into the garden and Iris sighs. Now that she’s thinking about it, she doesn’t think that she even felt like that - so into someone that she’s wearing an uncomfortably tight dress and stupidly high heels - when she was dating Kyle. The thought sends a little stab of sadness through her, and she bites her lip. Linda squeezes her hand. “Iris? You okay?”</p><p class="p4">“Yeah, fine. I just got a little bummed for minute. I’m trying to figure out what I want, in terms of guys. I just…ugh, I don’t know.”</p><p class="p4">“Are you sure?” At her quizzical look, Linda points at her shoes. “Well, you’re wearing your ‘fuck me’ boots. You sure you don’t know what you want?”</p><p class="p4">Iris blushes, looking down. She has to admit that she never breaks these boots out for just any party. They’re jet black leather and hit her mid thigh, and she’s paired it with a form-fitting minidress. “Well,” she says slowly, “you and Eddie were both going on about finding me a fuck buddy.”</p><p class="p4">Also, she’s pretty sure hooking up with Barry has made her feel much sexier than she has of late. It’s kind of embarrassing, really, but Kyle had barely made her feel like that, especially towards the end. She sips more of her drink, and Linda shrugs.</p><p class="p4">“Yeah, but we didn’t know how you felt about it. You don’t have to know exactly what you want one hundred percent of the time, you know. And - oh.” Linda blinks. “Okay, so, you know how you only came here because you knew that Barry wouldn’t be here? Well, guess who just turned up?”</p><p class="p4">Iris rolls her eyes. “Sure, Linda.”</p><p class="p4">“He’s looking at you right now. Well, he’s staring at your boots.”</p><p class="p4">“Of course he is.”</p><p class="p4">“Iris, I’m serious. He’s coming over.”</p><p class="p4">“All I’m saying,” Iris says, “is, so what if these are my ‘fuck me’ boots? I like them. And what’s wrong with a girl going out knowing that she looks fuckable?” Linda looks highly amused.</p><p class="p4">“Ahem. Hi Barry.”</p><p class="p4">“Uh” he says. “Hi.”</p><p class="p4">Iris freezes. “Barry!” she exclaims, feeling her face heat, and hoping for a black hole to swallow her up. “Um. Hi.”</p><p class="p4">“I’m going to get more drunk,” Linda says cheerfully. She squeezes Barry’s arm and hip checks Iris on her way past, leaving them both to stare at each other. He’s just as handsome as he was the last time, in a dark green button down shirt and black jeans. Iris swallows.</p><p class="p4">“Um - w-what are you doing here?”</p><p class="p4">“I came with my friend Ronnie. He needed me to be a wingman for him, and it worked, so then he didn’t need me anymore.”</p><p class="p4">“Oh,” Iris says quietly, and Barry raises an eyebrow.</p><p class="p4">“You didn’t think I’d be here, did you?”</p><p class="p4">“I don’t know what you mean.” She looks up, and there’s a small smile playing on his lips.</p><p class="p4">“Iris. You have your ‘panicked and about to bolt’ face on.”</p><p class="p4">“What? I don’t have a ‘panicked and about to bolt’ face.”</p><p class="p4">“Then why do you keep looking at the door?”</p><p class="p4">Barry grins at her and she smiles helplessly back. “Ha,” she says. She wrinkles her nose. “Right. I just…I guess I didn’t want it to be awkward.”</p><p class="p4">“More awkward than the jackass who didn’t remember his best friend from high school?”</p><p class="p4">Iris’ head snaps up at that. She hadn't thought that Barry remembered that, that they spent all their time together and went over to each other's houses all the time and Iris' elderly aunt has essentially taken it upon herself to send him sweaters. She'd just assumed, when she hadn't heard from him and then he didn't remember her, that he'd dismissed it as juvenile, those young friendships that you think are going to last forever because everything is do or die when you're a teenager. She hadn’t considered that Barry still thinks of her that way. It kind of makes the whole “random dumping on homecoming night” more confusing.</p><p class="p4">His eyes focus on her face, and Iris remembers that this is the other thing about Barry Allen. He always used to look at her with intense sort of <em>gaze</em>, like she was the only person in the world and he wanted to etch her face into his memory. She feels her heart start to kick up against her chest, so loud that he must be able to hear it. She flips her hair out of her face and pushes her glasses up her nose.</p><p class="p4">“Look, Barry,” she sighs. “It’s okay. I don’t - we don’t have to talk about it, we were both drunk, I know it didn’t mean anything. And…and high school was a long time ago, so I can forget about that if - if you can. We can just go back to normal.”</p><p class="p4">Is it her imagination or does Barry look disappointed? But then it’s gone so fast that she can’t be sure. He rubs the back of his neck. “Oh. I - oh.” He considers her. “Well, I wasn’t - I wasn’t telling anyone either, because I didn’t want that whole “spotted by ccu” thing to get a hold of it. Thats what I told Linda, your roommate - did she tell you?”</p><p class="p4">“Yeah, she mentioned that.” After Eddie had left, Linda told her that Barry hadn’t been planning on saying anything. He nods, stepping closer to her and grabbing her hands, and she gives a small gasp of surprise.</p><p class="p4">“Right. And Iris, I’m so sorry I didn’t remember you at first - I’m <em>so sorry</em>, if I could do anything to make you believe how sorry I am I would-”</p><p class="p4">“It’s fine, Barry-”</p><p class="p4">“No, no it’s not, I was an ass. You just look so different. I mean, you weren’t wearing your glasses, and you’re taller, and you’re so pretty - not,” he says quickly, “that you weren’t before, of course you were, but - ahhhh.” He stares at their hands, blushing furiously, before looking back up at her. “Ahem, I’m gonna start again. I’m really, really sorry, Iris. I promise I’m not an idiot all the time. Please don’t think I’m an ass.”</p><p class="p4">“I don’t think you’re an ass, Barry,” she laughs. She feels something unfurl in her chest, slightly. He used to call her pretty when they were teens, and say that any guy would be lucky to have her, so at least the Barry that used to be her friend is still in there. He grins at her suddenly, and she feels it as strongly as a clap of thunder.</p><p class="p4">“Good. Great. And I know we haven’t seen each other in years, but I would like it if we could be friends again? If that’s okay?” He pauses, swallows, studies her face again. “And you’re right, high school was a long time ago. We can forget about it. I just want us to be friends again.”</p><p class="p4">Iris feels like she’s teetering on the edge of something, like there’s a right answer and a wrong answer, and picking one or the other will determine more than just if she and Barry are friendly enough to grab coffee. She remembers how horrible she had felt when she got that text, how she’d locked herself in her room and cried for pretty much the whole weekend and then refused to talk to her parents about it. How miserable she was for the rest of the year, without Barry in her life, and then how alone she felt when her father was killed and she had to move. Then she considers rejecting him, pulling her hands out of his, finding Linda, and going home. Spending the rest of college ignoring and avoiding him. Pushing him out of her life permanently.</p><p class="p4">And then she takes one look at him, sweet and earnest and pleading, and realises pretty quickly she can’t.</p><p class="p4">(He’s always had that affect on her, he once got her to watch a stupid movie about zombie pirates by batting those long eyelashes at her and saying “please”. Idiot.)</p><p class="p4">She <em>wants</em> to forgive him, she realises. She misses him; she’s missed him for five years, and being heartbroken over him hasn’t exactly served her very well. And, okay, maybe she’d wanted an apology for being dumped on Homecoming, but Barry looks so eager to just be her friend again its hard to be mad about it. Maybe he feels too ashamed to dwell on it and that’s why he wants to move on.</p><p class="p4">“Sure,” she smiles. “We can be friends again.”</p><p class="p4">Barry lets out a sound of relief and smiles so wide that it pretty much breaks her heart. “Awesome. Do you wanna hang out? Or - do you want to go back to Linda?”</p><p class="p4">Iris giggles and points to where Linda is doing a body shots with Sara across the room. If Iris knows her roommates like she thinks she does, every single medic will be drunk under the table in minutes. She’s pretty sure Sara has an actual iron liver. “I’m good. I was actually just gonna text our group chat to make sure people knew where I was and then bounce, so I guess I’ll see you later. This isn’t really my scene, anyway.”</p><p class="p4">“Well, I can go with you. Really everyone only made me go so I’d stop being so miserable at home, and Ronnie doesn’t need me anymore, so if you don’t mind the company we can go together.”</p><p class="p4">“Sure. Meet you outside?”</p><p class="p4">Barry leaves and Iris wanders over to find Laurel in a heated debate about the Supreme Court, only everyone’s drunk so it’s really just a lot of yelling. Laurel is poking someone in the chest and telling them about how Loving v Virginia was about amendments five and fourteen, <em>not</em> eighteen.</p><p class="p4">“Lor? Lor - Laurel,” she says. Her roommate squints at her.</p><p class="p4">“Iris? Are you okay?”</p><p class="p4">“I’m fine, I’m just going home.” Laurel gasps dramatically.</p><p class="p4">“Oh! Are you going to have more sex?”</p><p class="p4">“No! I’m just going home with a friend, that’s all.”</p><p class="p4">“Ooh, you’re a dirty girl. A dirty, dirty girl. Make sure you wear a condom.”</p><p class="p4">Laurel plants a kiss on her forehead and then goes right back to her argument. Iris rolls her eyes and slips outside, texting her friends on the way. Barry is leaning against the wall when she goes outside and perks up when he sees her, all traces of his weird mood gone. His shirt has come open at the collar and she’s reminded of the noise he made when she’d planted a kiss on his long throat. Okay, maybe she shouldn’t have done the tequila shots.</p><p class="p4">“Everything good?”</p><p class="p4">“Well, Laurel was sober enough to recognise me, so there’s that.”</p><p class="p4">They laugh and then fall into silence. The noise recedes the farther away they get from the party, and its either stragglers on their way to the next one or people out on walks. They glance at each other a couple of times and then glance away without saying anything, and Iris is reminded that despite their newly-renewed friendship, they’re still basically strangers. Also, they’d had sex before renewing said friendship, so now if she looks at him for too long she does indeed get the fanny flutters.</p><p class="p4">(She does catch Barry staring at the place where her boots meet her thighs a couple of times, and his gaze is a little too heated for it to be one that comes from a friend.)</p><p class="p4">“So how’d you meet Ronnie?” Iris asks finally, going for a nice, easy topic. “I think he was my engineering TA last year.”</p><p class="p4">“Oh, he’s friends with Cisco and he was visiting once, and Cat made him repair one of the soundboards. Now he’s too scared not to come back when he asks, but he’s fine with it.”</p><p class="p4">“Why’s that?”</p><p class="p4">“Because he has a crush on one of the medics who does the Agony Aunt show and he comes in to flirt with her.”</p><p class="p4">Iris giggles. “Okay, I guess that’s a perk of the job. Linda really loves it there, by the way, she thinks you’re all great. She’s thinking of starting a foosball tournament with Cisco, though, so good luck with that, because Linda is very competitive.”</p><p class="p4">“Oh, I know. I’ve already been kicked out of the tournament.” He grins at her. “I’m really glad we have her, we all had to take turns going to the sports games and we all hated them. When she applied Cat almost said she’d pay her.”</p><p class="p4">“Oh, you guys are volunteering?”</p><p class="p4">“Yeah, it’s all we can afford. Cat pays for the office space and equipment for herself. It’s okay, though - I’m typing up some English professor’s book and I do Ubereats delivery driving in the holidays. I figure if I can get a journalism minor out of it, and my mom doesn’t let me be a detective, I can go work for-“</p><p class="p4">“Central City Picture News,” she says at the same time he does. He stares at her.</p><p class="p4">“You remembered.”</p><p class="p4">“Barry. Of course I did. You don’t remember how many times you ended up writing “exposes” on the inner workings of the teacher’s lounge when you were supposed to be studying?”</p><p class="p4">He looks at her for a moment, and it occurs to her that Barry has assumed that she’s forgotten all about him. She kind of wants to laugh at that. She couldn’t forget Barry Allen if she tried.</p><p class="p4">“Well, I saw that award you’re up for,” he says after a while. “You’re the youngest person in the country to be up for that, you know.”</p><p class="p4">“I know.”</p><p class="p4">“Like. Like <em>ever</em>.”</p><p class="p4">“I’ve heard,” she replies with a little smile. She can’t help but glow a little bit at the awe in his voice. She’d always wanted to impress him with her smarts.</p><p class="p4">“That’s so cool,” he continues, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You have to give a presentation, right? To Hardison-”</p><p class="p4">“Harrison.”</p><p class="p4">“Harrison Wells. Where is it?”</p><p class="p4">“It’s here at the university,” she explains. “It’s his alma mater so he wants to do it here. It’s right before Christmas break.” She pushes her glasses up her nose and he tips his head.</p><p class="p4">“You’re nervous.” She blinks at him.</p><p class="p4">“How did you know that?”</p><p class="p4">“You used to do that when you got nervous,” he shrugs. “Anyway, you shouldn’t be nervous, you’re going to win. You taught me calculus, I’m pretty sure you can do anything.”</p><p class="p4">“Thanks, Barry.” She pauses. “And thank you for not - that whole “spotted by ccu” thing is <em>brutal</em>-”</p><p class="p4">“Hey, of course. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”</p><p class="p4">She looks up at him. “How…how are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”</p><p class="p4">“I’ve been better,” he laughs humourlessly. He shrugs again. “I know in the long run it’s probably for the best, because someone breaking up with you like that probably doesn’t bode well for the rest of your relationship, but it’s hard watching someone you care about be so good at caring about someone else instead. Right in front of you. Everyday. All the time.”</p><p class="p4">Iris bites her lip, thinking of Becky Cooper. “Right,” she says quietly, her throat suddenly tight. “Must be tough.”</p><p class="p4">He glances at her. “You okay?”</p><p class="p4">“Fine.”</p><p class="p4">“You can ask, you know.”</p><p class="p4">“I can…ask?”</p><p class="p4">“Lots of people want to know exactly what happened,” he explains. “But they think I don’t want to talk about it, which I don’t, but what I want even less is to talk about it to people who’ve spent all day tweeting about it. But I know you won’t do that.”</p><p class="p4">Iris is quiet for a moment. “You can tell me,” she says, “if it will make you feel better.”</p><p class="p4">Barry doesn’t speak straight away. They walk down four more blocks and Iris thinks he’s changed his mind before he starts again. “I could feel her…pulling away, I guess? She kept spending more time away from me, and I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong. So I came up with this idea. You know those videos, where the guy surprises the girl with, like, flowers and stuff? She said she always liked those, so I wanted to do one for her, but bigger. I thought if I did this grand gesture she would see that I was still committed, or whatever. But,” he laughs bitterly, “as you probably heard, I embarrassed her, and it’s this kind of stuff that made her see that we were heading in opposite directions, and that we were different people. And then we realised it was being live-streamed. And now my Twitter account is locked.”</p><p class="p4">Iris isn’t quite sure what to say to that. If she were a different kind of person, she would think that it’s karma, Barry being dumped so cruelly after what he did to her, but she isn’t. And she can’t stand to see him so sad. “I think,” she says quietly, “that you’re right. Also, grand gestures are fine, Barry. You just grand-gestured the wrong person. For example, if I had a dozen red velvet cupcakes, and I had to give them to Felicity or Linda, I would give them to Linda, because Felicity doesn’t approve of unnaturally-coloured cake. To Linda, I’m a good friend, to Felicity, I’m a terrorist.”</p><p class="p4">Barry cracks a small smile at that, which is what she’d hoped for. “And I’m sorry you’re hurting,” she says quietly. “It gets easier.” He raises an eyebrow, and she shouldn’t think that’s sexy, but she does.</p><p class="p4">“Don’t tell me someone dumped you by livestream.”</p><p class="p4">“No, I dumped him, actually.”</p><p class="p4">“What’d he do?”</p><p class="p4">“He - wait,” she frowns, “how do you now he did something? How do you know I’m not a nightmare bitch who dumps guys on a whim?”</p><p class="p4">“Iris, stop it. You’re basically perfect. Tell me what he did.”</p><p class="p4">“What if I told you I dumped him for science?”</p><p class="p4">“If you dumped him for science, he’s boring,” he points out.</p><p class="p4">“Thats what Linda said!”</p><p class="p4">“Yeah, and you said she’s always right,” Barry grins at her. “Come on, what did he do?”</p><p class="p4">She lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “He said I was spending too much time on my research and I had to choose between him and it.”</p><p class="p4">“So he was a boring asshole.” He glances at her, and then at the floor. “So is that what you were doing at the party? Looking for his replacement?”</p><p class="p4">“I don’t want a replacement,” she replies. She folds her arms. “Not for me, anyway.”</p><p class="p4">“What do you mean?”</p><p class="p4">“My mom. She really liked him. So I said ‘he’s cute, mom, but I’ve chosen Isaac Newton’.”</p><p class="p4">And Barry laughs like he believes her, so she’s safe from having to reveal anymore about it. “Were you wingwomaning for Linda?”</p><p class="p4">“God, no, Linda doesn’t need a wingwoman. She was the reason I was there, though.”</p><p class="p4">“Oh, yeah?”</p><p class="p4">Iris knows she’s drunk because she actually comes out with the real answer. “Linda thinks I need to find someone for…um, a whole ‘friends with benefits arrangement’. For stress relief. She was helping me scope people out.”</p><p class="p4">(Iris swears that Barry looks at her boots again. Just for a second.)</p><p class="p4">“Oh. So that’s why the…the boots.”</p><p class="p4">With a jolt, Iris realises that Barry heard them when she was talking about how fuckable her boots make her look. She pushes her glasses up her nose and flips her hair out of face. “R-Right,” she says. “I think they’re nice.”</p><p class="p4">“They are,” he says immediately, an unexpected amount of heat in his voice. “It’s all…nice. You look nice.”</p><p class="p4">“Thank you.”</p><p class="p4">Iris belatedly remembers that she’s wearing red, which she has inconveniently remembered is Barry’s favourite colour. Why had she mentioned what Linda said? Why hadn’t she just asked about his mother or if he got a goldfish, like a normal friend? She chances a glance at him and notices that his hands are clenched in his pockets, which is making the tendons of his arms jump out. Then he catches her staring and she looks at the ground, but not before he sees the edge of a smirk on his face. Also, when did he get so close to her? She remembers them being a safe space away from each other on the sidewalk, but now they’re barely ten inches from each other.</p><p class="p4">They walk like that, in this weirdly-charged silence, for the next ten minutes. Every time Iris brings up something to talk about, she looks at him - the hard line of his jaw, the long column of us throat, the set of his shoulders - and promptly forgets about it. She’s pretty sure she’s said “um” about four times now. Also, Barry is definitely inching closer to her. Wait, or maybe she’s inching closer to him. Why did she drink so much tequila?</p><p class="p4">Barry comes to a sudden stop, and Iris realises this is his house. “This is me.”</p><p class="p4">“Oh. Okay. I guess I’ll see you later.”</p><p class="p4">“Iris.”</p><p class="p4">“Barry?”</p><p class="p4">He steps closer to her, his expression unreadable, and she looks up at him. She’s pretty sure they’re breathing in sync. He takes a deep breath and holds a hand out to her. Iris looks at it for a moment, and Linda’s voice flashes through her mind.</p><p class="p4">
  <em>You don’t have to know exactly what you want one hundred percent of the time, you know. </em>
</p><p class="p4">Very slowly, Iris puts her hand in his, and is surprised when he gives it a gentle squeeze.</p><p class="p4">He kisses her as soon as he shuts the door behind them, tangling his hands in her hair, and they stumble up the stairs before bursting into his room in a flurry of limbs. Iris snakes her arms around his neck as she kisses him, then lets out a small shriek of surprise when he bends at the knees to pick her up. She wraps her legs around him automatically, mostly to stop from falling, and gasps when Barry backs her into a wall. She rakes her hands through his hair, fastening him to her.</p><p class="p4">“Are you okay?” he murmurs into her mouth.</p><p class="p4">“I’m fine.”</p><p class="p4">“Are you sure? Because the door-”</p><p class="p4">“Barry, shut up.”</p><p class="p4">He starts grinding his crotch into hers, which is so unbelievably hot she forgets where she is for a moment, and she moans something (probably? probably his name) and he bites lightly at her neck. His pushes her dress up, hooking his thumbs into the elastic of her underwear, chanting her name in a low, urgent whisper between kisses. Then she feels something hot and thick pressing into her through her panties, making her feel all quivery inside.</p><p class="p4">“<em>Barry</em>,” she gasps out, and she can feel him smiling.</p><p class="p4">“Bed?”</p><p class="p4">“Yes, please.”</p><p class="p4">He sets her down gently and then unbuttons his shirt, while Iris manoeuvres her underwear off over her boots. He stares at her, and she snorts. “They’re complicated. Do you want me to take them off?”</p><p class="p4">“<em>Never</em> take them off.”</p><p class="p4">He grabs her in a bruising kiss, walking her back to the bed and then laying her down on top of her after he’s put on a condom. She runs her hands all over his shoulders and torso, delighting in the way it makes him shiver. Where did he get these <em>shoulders</em> from?</p><p class="p4">“The gym,” he whispers, biting on her earlobe. “Also, I run track and Oliver does archery and he makes me lift weights with him.”</p><p class="p4">He reaches down and wraps her legs around his waist again, before pressing down into her, smiling at the keening sound she makes. “Barry the Beanstalk,” she giggles, and he groans.</p><p class="p4">“Iris, you call me that again and-”</p><p class="p4">“And what?”</p><p class="p4">“I…” he frowns, and Iris takes the opportunity to flip them so she’s sitting on top of him. She rolls her hips into his and he gasps as he settles his hands on her waist. Then she lowers herself slowly onto him, biting her lip to keep from screaming as she takes more of him in. Barry arches off the bed, gasping. “Iris - <em>Iris</em>-”</p><p class="p4">She plants one hand on one side of his head, then uses the other to grip his chin between her thumb and forefinger and kiss him slowly, twisting her hips to test the angle. Barry’s still chanting her name as she moves, but then he grins.</p><p class="p4">“Iris.”</p><p class="p4">“What?”</p><p class="p4">“You’re right. The boots worked.”</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">Okay.</p><p class="p4">Okay.</p><p class="p4">She isn’t actually planning on running out on him a second time, but around three am Iris gets a text from Alex Danvers, which means all bets are off.</p><p class="p4">
  <em>Booking cancelled, Murray building empty</em>
</p><p class="p4">Iris grins at her phone and then looks over at Barry, who’s asleep with one arm thrown over her stomach. They’d fallen asleep after that second time, but Iris really had been planning on staying and having an actual conversation with him. She’s sore from…everything (at one point Barry had managed to pin both her hands above her head, which - anyway), but she’d had a good enough time that she’s considering making Barry her “stress-relief”. And yes, she knows its probably post-sex hormones talking, but the thing is, Barry’s so easy to be around that she doesn’t see how it can get complicated.</p><p class="p4">Okay, maybe she hasn’t thought it through.</p><p class="p4">After lifting his arm and placing it gently by his side, she pulls on her boots and smooths down her dress, then tries to locate her underwear. It’s still dark out, but the sun will be up in a few hours, and the Murray building won’t be free forever. When she checks her phone again, she sees that she has a text from Linda.</p><p class="p4">
  <em>YOU HAD SEX WITH BARRY DIDNT YOU</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>Morning lin</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>We’re you safe</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>I’ll be home soon. Are you ok</em>
</p><p class="p4">
  <em>I’m fine. Fill me in in the morning</em>
</p><p class="p4">Her friends sorted, Iris slides her bangles back on, trying not to wake Barry. She looks back at him, her hand on the doorknob. Barry’s still a deep sleeper, apparently, and he looks so unbelievably adorable even as he snores that her chest hurts a bit.</p><p class="p4">Iris slips out of his room, closing the door as quietly as possible. Then she feels a prickling on the back of her neck, and spins around to see Cisco blinking at her, a Twizzler hanging from his mouth. “Iris?” he frowns, slurring slightly. “What are you doing here?”</p><p class="p4">She’s about to panic, but then she takes a great big whiff and relaxes. “I’m not here, Cisco. Go to eat something.”</p><p class="p4">“Okay,” he says sleepily. He offers the Twizzlers. “You want a donut?”</p><p class="p4">“Why don’t you hold onto those?”</p><p class="p4">Iris makes it back to her house while it’s still dark, but this isn’t the time to get complacent. The Murray building isn’t the most newest science building on campus, but it is the biggest, with enough space for experiments and an actual theatre from when it used to be a medical building. It’s a little old, but it’s functional, and it’s pleasantly quiet when no one is bothering you. It’s the perfect place to work on her project without prying eyes, but she has to get there fast. So after a couple more hours of sleep, some aspirin, and a shower, Iris packs up her laptop and picks up a bag of chocolate croissants from Jitters.</p><p class="p4">(She will call Barry. As soon as she’s done. Honest.)</p><p class="p4">Alex is leaning against the double doors when she arrives at exactly seven am, razor sharp bob and dark shades making her look every inch like the FBI agent she one day hopes to be. They met in Iris’ sophomore year, when Alex took this job to pay for her masters. After getting frustrated whenever she tried to book a room but always got shafted and ended up with the old rooms with the shitty equipment, Alex discreetly let her know she could give her the lowdown on when the rooms were available.</p><p class="p4">“You’re a goddess,” she grins, handing her the bad. Alex studies the bag and then jerks her head inside. “Swipe your card on the way in. Hey,” she says quickly. She studies her. “You have sex last night?”</p><p class="p4">“Um. No.”</p><p class="p4">“Liar.”</p><p class="p4">Iris grins sheepishly and Alex makes an impresses noise. “Good for you, West.”</p><p class="p4">“Thanks. What’s your day like?”</p><p class="p4">“Couple more hours on duty, then I have this interview with some reporter from the university paper about whoever it was that tagged the Stella Building.”</p><p class="p4">“Oh yeah, I heard about that. Did you ever find out who did it?”</p><p class="p4">“Probably some freshmen. I have no idea why I need to talk to some cub reporter about it, though, it’s not like they’re going to solve it.” She shrugs. “Whatever. I get paid, right?”</p><p class="p4">Alex bades her goodbye, making her promise to be careful, and Iris makes her way up to the top of the building, farthest away from the doors. It’s still early - most people don’t think to get in here until nine - and it promises to be a nice day. She sets herself up in the theatre, which looks like a cross between the operating room it used to be and the experiments room it is now. Then she opens her laptop, arranges her research on the bench, and gets to work.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">Barry wakes up to the sunlight streaming through his open window and lifts his head. “Iris?” he mutters groggily, and is only half-surprised to find that she’s already gone. He doesn’t blame her. Once is a mistake, twice is habit. And sleeping with the best friend from high school who didn’t recognise you the first time is a bad habit to have. He’d be too embarrassed to face him in the morning, too.</p><p class="p4">He can’t deny that he had fun, though. There’s something so natural and easy about being with Iris. It takes him a couple of minutes to realise he’s already looking forward to the next time...if she wants there to be one. He rubs his hair. Would she want to, though? She <em>had</em> mentioned stress-relief. But perhaps the fact that she’s run out on him for the second time without so much as a note should be his answer.</p><p class="p4">He’ll ask her out for coffee, he decides. Friends get coffee, and she’s agreed to be his friend again. Which he didn’t realise he wanted until he was right in front of her. When he walked up to her and Linda, she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but standing in front of him, which just reminded him of the lengths she must have gone to to make sure they didn’t see each other. He has to make it up to her. Somehow.</p><p class="p4">Barry checks his clock: ten am. He has his appointment with the security guard who was on duty when the posters were vandalised, then he can ask Iris to get coffee. He’ll probably feel way more confidence once he has a successful interview in him. Probably.</p><p class="p4">Barry’s still thinking about her when he gets out of the shower and heads into the lounge, where he finds Cisco surrounded by what looks like all the food in their house, and Curtis on the PlayStation. Barry grabs some cereal and settles at the table, before giving Cisco a look.</p><p class="p4">“Did you hotbox the apartment again?”</p><p class="p4">“Nah, we hung out at Ronnie’s place after the party. Hey, where’d you go? You disappeared after like an hour.”</p><p class="p4">“Uh, nothing,” Barry replies, focusing on his cereal. “Just wasn’t feeling it, I guess.”</p><p class="p4">“Maybe it was for the best, I’ve NEVER tripped out like that before.” He shoves a forkful of eggs in his mouth. “You know, I thought I saw Iris.”</p><p class="p4">Barry freezes. “Well, that’s not - she wasn’t here, you didn’t see her.”</p><p class="p4">“I know that,” he says, giving him a puzzled look. “Linda said she went home. What’s with you?”</p><p class="p4">“Nothing. We still on for movie night?”</p><p class="p4">Cisco clears his throat. “<em>As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster</em>.”</p><p class="p4">Barry grins and high fives him, before heading off to his room to do his interview prep.</p><p class="p4">According to the morning security guard - Alex, Kara’s sister - she arrived for her shift to find that windows had been smashed in the front reception, the trophies that were in the cabinets were strewn around the floor, and the porters adorning the walls and hanging from the rafters were all ripped and scribbled on. The Stella Building is the newest science building, opened up by some billionaire scientist last year, so Barry’s note entire sure why someone would want to deface it, but it’s his job to find out, after all.</p><p class="p4">He gathers up his stuff and satchel and heads to campus, taking the long way to enjoy the view. Alex told him to meet her outside the Murray building at eleven, since that’s when she gets off her shift. He’s just rounding the corner to the building when he hears the commotion.</p><p class="p4">“What the…”</p><p class="p4">The whole place is swarming with people, most of whom are taking videos of the column of grey smoke pouring out of the top of building. More campus police than he’s ever seen are trying to keep people away from the entrance. A few feet away, Alex is yelling at another officer, who looks like he’s trying to calm her down. Barry jogs over.</p><p class="p4">“Alex! Hey, Alex!” He comes to a stop in front of them, just as Alex looks like she’s about to punch the guy. Barry recognises them from the safety announcements as the chief of the campus police. “What’s going on?” The guy rolls his eyes.</p><p class="p4">“Who’s this?”</p><p class="p4">“Barry Allen, CCU news. Alex,” he says again, “What’s happening?”</p><p class="p4">“Detective Dumbass is going to kill a student, that’s what fucking happening-”</p><p class="p4">“Danvers!” he snaps. “Look, we’ve been through this, we looked at the computer - there’s no one else in there. We evacuated the whole building.”</p><p class="p4">Alex actually snarls at him, before turning to Barry. “A fire started in one of the rooms in the Murray Building. They think it was caused by a broken toaster in the staff lounge or something. It shorted out the power for a second, but then the lights came back on. No big deal, right? Everyone starts evacuating. Except for the top floor.”</p><p class="p4">“Danvers-”</p><p class="p4">“<em>The top floor</em>,” she snaps, “which is older than the rest of the building, so the electrical systems are different. Anyone who’s on the top floor wouldn’t know there was a fire, because the power didn’t cut out, and as far as I can tell, the smoke alarms up there didn’t go off.” Barry’s eyes widen.</p><p class="p4">“There’s someone still in there?”</p><p class="p4">“<em>No there isn’t </em>- kid, you need to get out of here.”</p><p class="p4">Barry glares at him. “You gonna make me?”</p><p class="p4">He rolls his eyes and turns back to Alex. “Danvers, we evacuated the building! Look at the list, right here,” he says, gesturing to an iPad. “Every kid who swiped in was checked off by Evans, and according to our records, there’s no one on the top floor.”</p><p class="p4">“Thats because when the electric cut out and then turned back on, your crappy computers erased everyone who swiped before seven thirty. It didn’t even know that me, the cleaner, or John on the shift before me signed in this morning!”</p><p class="p4">He’s about to reply when another campus police officer shows up, and he scowls. “What is it, Brainy?”</p><p class="p4">“Fire marshall says the closest rig is five minutes out, sir. They’re trying to get in but they can’t get close because of the crowd. Is there anyone still in there?”</p><p class="p4">“No,” he replies, at the same time Alex says, “Yes!”</p><p class="p4">“Danvers, who the hell would have turned up before seven thirty this morning?”</p><p class="p4">“The person <em>on the top floor</em>! I signed her in this morning, and I haven’t seen her come out yet!”</p><p class="p4">“There are dozens of kids around here! You probably just missed one.”</p><p class="p4">“I missed one? <em>I</em> missed one. A student could die today because you’d rather spend the budget on toy guns than better computers so you and your boys can play lone fucking ranger, but <em>I</em> missed one.”</p><p class="p4">“<em>Alexandra Danvers</em>-”</p><p class="p4">“And when you have to stand up in front of a tribunal and explain how you killed Iris West because you were too stupid to-”</p><p class="p4">Barry’s entire body freezes. “Wait, what?” he says, stepping forward. “<em>What</em>? Iris is in there?”</p><p class="p4">“Yes! She got here early and she always goes to the top floor - it’s soundproofed, so it’s good for experiments. That’s what she always tells me.” She jabs a finger in the chief’s face. “You go in there and find her, <em>right now</em>!”</p><p class="p4">“Danvers, you need to - hey! Hey, kid, where the hell are you - <em>do not go in there</em>!”</p><p class="p4">Barry doesn’t recall the moment that he does it. He just knows that one minute he’s listening to them argue, and the next, he’s dumped his bag on the floor and is running full tilt towards the Murray Building.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">The first thing Iris notices isn’t the smoke. It’s her headache.</p><p class="p4">She has been working steadily for hours, refining the simulation in the way that Felicity taught her and making notes for her presentation. She’s not as good as her friend at writing computer programs, but she has some rudimentary skill, and today she’s finally managed to get the simulation good enough to work on the video for the projection. She’s about to turn it on for the tenth time to take more notes when she feels a dull throb in her head.</p><p class="p4">Iris looks up and blinks. She’s been drinking water all morning, so that can’t be it, and she isn’t particularly tired. Then she takes off her prescription goggles and puts on her glasses, and then she frowns. The room looks…hazy. Hazy and…maybe a little warm? The hairs on the back of her neck stand up.</p><p class="p4">Okay. Don’t panic.</p><p class="p4">She takes a slow, deep breath - and immediately starts coughing.</p><p class="p4">Iris moves on autopilot, packing up her stuff, throwing them in her back, pulling her sweater up to cover her mouth and nose. She looks around, her chest tightening when she realises the the source of the smoke is near the top of the door. It’s been filling the room for god knows how long, and now it’s going to kill-</p><p class="p4">No. <em>No</em>. Do not think like that, Iris West. You haven’t met Harrison Wells yet, you have some things you want to say to your mother, and you owe Barry Allen a confession. Or something.</p><p class="p4">The corridor is worse, and Iris remembers the other reason that people don’t like the Murray Building - the ventilation is bad. The lack of intense heat tells her that the fire isn’t actually anywhere near here, but the smoke is spreading from one of the rooms. Its filled the entirety of the top floor, making it hard to see. Iris feels along the wall and stumbles down the stairs, trying not to panic at the fact that her eyes are watering and nausea is rolling through her stomach.</p><p class="p4">The smoke alarms hadn’t gone off, Iris thinks. She had been up there for hours, and the alarms hadn’t gone off.</p><p class="p4">“Iris!”</p><p class="p4">Why hadn’t the alarms gone off? Her eyes are starting to sting, and she really, really wants to sit down.</p><p class="p4">“Iris, where are you?”</p><p class="p4"><em>Why hadn’t the alarms gone off</em>?</p><p class="p4">“IRIS!”</p><p class="p4">Who <em>is</em> that?</p><p class="p4">“Iris - <em>Iris</em>,” someone is saying, and then someone is scooping her up and holding her close to them. The ground swings away from her, and he gets a flash of green eyes and dark chestnut hair.“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”</p><p class="p4">“Barry?” she mumbles. She’s vaguely aware of being carried somewhere. “Did you come to fix the alarm?”</p><p class="p4">“What?”</p><p class="p4">“The alarms didn’t go off.”</p><p class="p4">“I heard,” he chuckles nervously. “You know, if you didn’t want to call me back, you could have just said. Or gone back to avoiding me.”</p><p class="p4">“Okay.”</p><p class="p4">“Iris.”</p><p class="p4">“Yeah?”</p><p class="p4">“Why were you avoiding me?”</p><p class="p4">“Because you made me sad.”</p><p class="p4">“When?”</p><p class="p4">She sighs and rests her head against his shoulder. “All the time.”</p><p class="p4">Then suddenly there’s a lot of very bright light and loud noise, and people keep yelling, Barry loudest of all. Then Alex comes into view and she’s really mad at some guy with a bad toupee. Iris tries to take a deep breath and her whole chest starts to hurt, and she starts coughing so hard that she can’t breathe properly. She’s settled on a what feels like a bed, and when she feels something settle on her face breathing becomes much easier. There’s a flurry of activity, and then they’re being driven off in an ambulance.</p><p class="p4">“Miss?” a gentle female voice says. “Miss, can you hear me?”</p><p class="p4">She nods, and she feels a firm hand on her shoulder. “Good. Just breath into that, and you’ll be okay. You’ve been breathing in smoke and carbon monoxide, and I’m pretty sure it’s been making you dizzy and nauseous, so you just keep breathing into that, and you’ll feel better in a second.”</p><p class="p4">“Okay, do - <em>Caitlin</em>?”</p><p class="p4">“Iris?”</p><p class="p4">Barry stares between the two of them. “How do <em>you</em> know Iris?”</p><p class="p4">“We met at a party,” Caitlin says quickly. Iris stares at her as the ambulance rumbles along the road. Her hair is tied back in a tight ponytail, and she’s wearing the white uniform of an ambulance worker, so different from the girl who wanted to impress a guy at the medic party. “Oh my God, Iris, are you okay? Does anything hurt?”</p><p class="p4">“Just m-my chest, I-” She breaks off in another fit of coughing, and Caitlin gets her settled on the gurney before rubbing a soothing hand on her back.</p><p class="p4">“It’s okay, Iris, don’t worry. We’re going to get you to a hospital and get a look at your chest. Is there anything we should know?”</p><p class="p4">Iris opens her mouth and immediately starts coughing again. “She’s allergic to penicillin,” Barry supplies, “and she’s had her appendix removed. Also she doesn’t have her wisdom teeth.”</p><p class="p4">Caitlin pauses. “Actually, Barry, I meant whether she smokes, is a Jehovah’s Witness, or is pregnant.”</p><p class="p4">Iris swallows painfully. “Ah, no. None of those things.”</p><p class="p4">“Good. Now, we’ll be at the hospital in a moment, so just lie back and breathe, okay? Stephen here will take your vitals.”</p><p class="p4">Iris watches as Barry and Caitlin move off to the edge of her bed, backs turned, and she tries to breathe slowly into the oxygen mask. Her head is pounding now, though the nausea has stopped. Caitlin is whispering furiously at Barry, and she catches words like “burning building” and “idiot” and “killed”. Then she makes him sit down while she examines him, and they ride to the hospital in silence. She looks at Barry, who looks shocked and suitably chastised, and tries to think of what to say, but her throat hurts too much.</p><p class="p4">Everything happens very quickly after that. She’s taken to an emergency room, her vitals checked again, her throat and chest examined. A Dr. Carla Tannhauser tells her that she inhaled enough smoke to make her feel dizzy, but thankfully not enough to do any damage. She feels underneath her jaw and looks in her throat again.</p><p class="p4">“You were very lucky,” she says kindly. “A couple more hours and you can go home, and there should be no long-term damage, though I do what you to come in for a check up. This young man probably saved your life. Are you the boyfriend?”</p><p class="p4">“No!” Iris says hoarsely, loud enough to make her throat burn. “No, we’re just friends.”</p><p class="p4">Dr. Tannhauser raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything, and Caitlin looks like she’s trying not to laugh. Barry fidgets. “Well, anyway, you’ll be fine, Iris. Now, there are four very lovely but very loud young women shrieking your name in my ER waiting room. I trust these ladies are your roommates?” Iris nods.</p><p class="p4">“Um, probably.”</p><p class="p4">“I will tell them to come back when it’s time to take you home.”</p><p class="p4">Everyone files out - and Caitlin gives a small squeeze of her fingers - and then she’s alone with Barry. He’s hair is sticking up in all directions and he looks completely exhausted. “So,” she says quietly. “Wow.”</p><p class="p4">“Yeah,” he says faintly. “Are you okay?”</p><p class="p4">“I’m alive. Thanks to you.”</p><p class="p4">“Oh, it - uh. Don’t worry about it.”</p><p class="p4">“Barry. You saved my life. You literally saved my life. Just accept the thank you.”</p><p class="p4">He smiles at her. “Okay, then.”</p><p class="p4">“It was really stupid.”</p><p class="p4">“I know.”</p><p class="p4">She leans over to the desk and grabs for her necklace, which was taken off for the exam. “<em>Really</em> stupid. Almost as stupid as - what? Barry?”</p><p class="p4">Barry is frozen, staring at her necklace in shock. “You - you’re wearing it,” he breathes.</p><p class="p4">“You...mean my necklace? My dad got me this for my birthday. I never take it off, why?”</p><p class="p4">Barry stares at her for several moments. “Right. Right, of course he did,” he says, glancing at the floor. Why does he sound so sad? “It - It’s nice. Um, so I’m gonna go.” He stands, grabbing his jacket. She tries to sit up, frowning.</p><p class="p4">“Wait - Barry-”</p><p class="p4">“Feel better, okay?” he says quietly, and then he’s gone.</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p4">Iris doesn’t remember the last time she was so tired. Linda, Felicity, Sara and Laurel have driven her home, tucked her in bed, and given her soup. They’ve called her mother, fended off the police, and have commandeered her phone so no one bothers her. She would like nothing more than to fall asleep and deal with the fact that she was almost burned alive tomorrow.</p><p class="p4">So when Laurel knocks on her door and says she has a visitor, she’s not impressed.</p><p class="p4">“He says he’s from CCU News,” she explains, and Iris perks up. Tons of people have called her since she got home a few hours ago, but not Barry. She thinks back to him reaction to her necklace. What had that been about?</p><p class="p4">She pads down the stairs, wondering why Laurel looks so hostile. She knows Barry. Iris is sure he’s here to see how she’s doing and then leave. But then they arrive in the lounge, and the visitor isn’t Barry.</p><p class="p4">“Hi, Iris,” he smiles smoothly. “My name is Thaddeus Thawne. I was wondering if we could talk?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you enjoyed that. I'm still a little unsure about it but I'm committed now. Let me know what you think!</p><p>EDIT: so I changed a bit of the backstory with Barry and Iris so that they stopped being friends in elementary school rather than in kindergarten. I also hope that Barry and Iris aren't acting too OOC for people. Their backstories are slightly different but I'm going to try to make sure the personalities we know and love are around.</p><p>The next one is going to explore more emotions, and especially what Barry thinks of what happened on Homecoming...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. September - Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Barry and Iris make a deal.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is even longer than the last one???</p><p>EDIT: added a little more backstory :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <strong> <em>And the old man said, ‘Look up, dear child, and be brave, and be wild, for this is no ordinary night. A hundred million stars, from Jupiter to Mars, but only one that burns endlessly, beautifully bright.’ - A Hundred Million Stars, J. Garrick</em> </strong>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @neganthestallion96:#SPOTTEDATCCU SO WAS NO ONE GOING TO TELL ME THAT BARRY ALLEN WENT FULL SUPERMAN TODAY OR</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @bamonliveson: omg thissssss I swooned</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @pianoman: does anyone have the video of that barry allen guy running into a building I need it for a meme #spottedatccu</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @neganthestallion96: NO BUT SERIOUSLY HAVE YOU EVER SEEN ANYTHING SEXIER #spottedatccu</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @katykeene: who was the girl he saved? Is that his girlfriend???</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @negantheestallion96: maybe? Her name is Iris West, she’s in my friends advanced chem class</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @jackthegiantkiller: no I’m pretty sure she’s single, she was dating some guy in my business class and they broke up</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @blackpinkisking: someone tell her that’s her man now Lois lane WHOMST</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @laurrystar7: my boyfriend looks so UGLY now</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @bamonliveson: does anyone know what happened?</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @iamthedon: there was a fire in one of the rooms but the Murray building is so old the fire alarms never went off</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @neganthestallion96: SO HE LITERALLY RAN INTO A BURNING BUILDING TO SAVE HER</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @riversongstan: *throws panties* #spottedatccu</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @desmondthedodo: um those two are definitely dating, who the hell runs into a burning building for a girl he’s not dating? #spottedatccu</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @theonewhoknocks: isn’t that the guy who got dumped by patty spivot on tv?</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @desmondthedodo: wait patty spivot is single</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @thadtthawne: no, she isn’t.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @ccuallstars: #spottedatccu does anyone know if this allen kid runs track?</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @ccucometscoach: get your own, Wilson, he’s ours</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @ransomswhitesweater: @johnniethegiant why don’t you ever save me from burning buildings #spottedatccu</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @johnniethegiant: because I’m not a fireman and also what???</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Iris looks at Thad, blinking. She can definitely see the resemblance between him and Eddie - with his fairer hair, electric blue eyes, and sharper features, he looks like the devil version of his cousin. Though if Iris were rendering him in a painting, she’d surround him with ice instead of fire. She scratches uneasily at the bandage on her arm - she had unknowingly scratched it when she was packing up her stuff - and pulls the blanket tighter around herself.</p><p class="p1">“Talk about what?” she asks. Her voice comes out hoarse and she swallows painfully.</p><p class="p1">“Well, first of all I wanted to say I’m glad you’re okay. It must have been scary.”</p><p class="p1">“It was.”</p><p class="p1">“You’ve been to the hospital?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes.”</p><p class="p1">“What did they say?”</p><p class="p1">“That I shouldn’t be talking much. Did you want something?”</p><p class="p1">Iris honestly wants to say that the reason she’s coming out to sullen and hostile is because she’s disliked Thad ever since he essentially stole Barry’s girlfriend right in front of him - which she has. But there’s something disconcerting about his stare. She feels a little like she’s in a cage with a snake. And the way he’s eyeing her, with that cool curiosity, is taking her back to five years ago, in a room with a cold police offer with colder eyes, asking her questions when all she could see was the memory of her father’s bloody body printed on the backs of her eyelids. Iris eyes Thad warily, thankful for Laurel’s presence, even as he shrugs amiably.</p><p class="p1">“Oh, I just wanted you to confirm things for me. Wouldn’t want anyone to have the wrong idea about what happened, would we?”</p><p class="p1">“No,” Iris says. “No, I guess we wouldn’t.”</p><p class="p1">She sits down in the armchair across for him, and Laurel comes to stand behind her. Thad glances at Laurel briefly, like he thinks she’s going to move, but the girl isn’t top in her law class because she bakes cookies. Thad clears his throat. “So, from what I hear you were working alone on the top floor of the Murray Building on your project for the Harrison Wells research prize, correct?”</p><p class="p1">“Thats…that’s right.”</p><p class="p1">“Good. And you got there early to make sure there was no one else there with you? You wanted to be alone?”</p><p class="p1">Iris frowns. “No. I got there early because the top floor is one of the only places where I could do the experiment without being disturbed. I’m in a competition and I didn’t want anyone to see what I was doing.”</p><p class="p1">Thad raises an eyebrow. “So…you wanted to be alone?”</p><p class="p1">Iris feels her hackles start to rise. “In a manner of speaking,” she says stonily, and he nods.</p><p class="p1">“And then you didn’t hear the fire alarm? Is that right?”</p><p class="p1">“No.”</p><p class="p1">“No, you didn’t hear it?”</p><p class="p1">“No, the fire alarm didn’t go off.”</p><p class="p1">Thad frowns down at his notes. “According to this, the other people in the building-”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t care about the other people in the building,” Iris snaps. “The fire alarm didn’t go off, not where I was.”</p><p class="p1">“Isn’t that room soundproofed?”</p><p class="p1">“To prevent sound from coming <em>in</em>,” she points out. “There are alarms in the room. I know that, because experiments go wrong in the Murray Building all the time. I’ve heard that alarm go off.”</p><p class="p1">“Are you sure?”</p><p class="p1">Iris watches him, the way his blue, blue eyes almost seem to glow, that charming smile, sharp as a scythe. He is here, barely two hours since she was released from the hospital and bundled into Felicity’s car, wanting to know what happened at the Murray Building. Everyone on campus knows the basic story - Iris was in the building when the fire happened, the campus police didn’t know she was in there, and Barry went in when he heard from Alex Danvers that Iris was still in there (this last part she’d heard from Alex herself when she and Kara came to visit her), but barely anyone knows the gory details, and even less know what the police are saying.So what does Thad have to gain from talking to her before she even talks to the police?</p><p class="p1">The answer comes almost as soon as she asks herself the question. She remembers that Linda told her that even though Barry and Kara are co-editors in chief of the paper, Kara covers her share of the editing and politics, which takes up most of her time since its anything from university goings-on to local elections Barry is the writer, doing crime, features, special interest, and anything that would be of note. She, Iris West is now of note, and Barry already has the upper hand since he was there. Thad, like Patty, is a junior TV anchor, and what better way than to make sure you’re the number one reporter at the paper than by getting the scoop on the girl who almost got set on fire before it can get in the paper?</p><p class="p1">Iris feels a sliver of protectiveness threading through her. Barry is a good writer. Barry is a <em>great</em> writer, actually, and yes it may be embarrassing that she’s read every single article that he’s written, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to doubt his skill. Besides, she trusts Barry. She absolutely does not trust Thad, no matter how much he reminds her of Eddie. If there’s anyone she wants to give a quote to, its him.</p><p class="p1">And there’s that other thing, too. That creeping feeling of dread that she remembers from when her father died, when she kept telling everyone how she saw a man in yellow dashing around her kitchen before she found the knife in his stomach. How they tried to get her to think it was her mother, how Francine overreacted during an argument and then killed her husband. And all the therapists and foster carers and teachers who never believed her. She cuts Thad a look that can hammer rivets.</p><p class="p1">“Do you think I was hanging out in a room filling with smoke for fun?” she wants to know. She’s vaguely aware that her heart is slamming in her chest and her head has started to pound. “That I thought carbon monoxide poisoning would be a great start to the year? Of course I’m sure.”</p><p class="p1">“You know what?” Laurel says pleasantly, as if Iris isn’t seconds away from hitting Thad, “I think its time for Iris to rest. You can get your little quote tomorrow, after she’s talked to the police.”</p><p class="p1">Thad blinks, rattled for a moment, and then nods, standing. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. I can leave you my number-”</p><p class="p1">“And she will take it, Bernstein,” Laurel says, slipping the scrap of paper into her pocket as she leads him to the door. Thad turns to look at Iris, who is still curled up on the couch in her blanket. As much as she may dislike him, she gets it, why its his face that they see on the school bulletin three times a week every morning. He does have that whole news anchor thing, where it’s like he’s looking directly into your soul when he’s talking to you. Except when Barry does it, she feels like she’s the only person in the world. When Thad does it, she feels like he’s going to expose her to the whole world. But she was the victim of a freak accident. There’s nothing to expose.</p><p class="p1">Is there?</p><p class="p1">“I’m really glad you’re okay, Iris,” he tells her. “Have a good night.”</p><p class="p1">Iris listens to Laurel see him off, willing her heart rate to get under control. She feels raw again, like an insect under a microscope. Like she’s going to walk out the door tomorrow and everyone’s going to know everything about her from top to bottom. She presses the backs of her hands to her eyes and takes several deep breaths, the way Nora always taught her to, and wishes she could talk to someone. But then Laurel is walking back into the lounge, so she swallows it down and schools her features into a neutral expression.</p><p class="p1">Her roommate whistles appreciatively after she has seen him out and sits next to her on the couch. “I’ll give him one thing, he’s persistent. Sniffing around here like a Doberman after a frat party, just so he can get the first quote.” She strokes Iris’ hair softly. “You okay? You need anything?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m okay,” she replies. She still can’t shake the feeling that she’s missing something with Thad. “Hey, what’s everyone saying?”</p><p class="p1">“Nothing much,” Laurel admits. “I mean, most people are talking about the fact that Barry Allen pulled you out of burning wreckage-“</p><p class="p1">“He did not <em>pull me out</em> of <em>burning wreckage-</em>”</p><p class="p1">“Thats not what the internet is saying, and besides, you’re doing wonders for his reputation. Now he’s not “guy who got brutally dumped on camera for Thaddeus Thawne”, he’s “Barry Allen, knight in shining armour”.”</p><p class="p1">“Haha. I meant about the fire. Is anyone saying anything?”</p><p class="p1">“Um. No? I think there might be a safety review of the building and the electrics, and that rent-a-cop campus police chief is definitely getting fired. But the firefighters put out the fire on the bottom floor and then everyone went home. Why? Are you worried?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, I’m just thinking, if Thad is here, isn’t there something to worry about? Remember when he started talking to those guys on the basketball team and exposed the point-shaving? And then when he was talking to those cleaners and that’s how everyone found out that one of the professors was blackmailing one of them into sleeping with him?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but those people had something to hide. It’s not like you have anything to hide, right?”</p><p class="p1">Well, actually, Iris has plenty to hide, but Laurel doesn’t know that. She sighs. “I guess. I just-”</p><p class="p1">“Oh my god, we need security,” Felicity’s voice interrupts her from down the hall. Iris hears the door slamming and the sounds of various bags being dragged into the kitchen. Linda, Felicity and Sara went out to get some supplies for her - supplies that she still insists she doesn’t need, but she knows they’re worried. Iris thinks maybe she’s still in shock, or hasn’t processed it yet. She feels fine, but when she imagines that Linda had been in her position, slowly inhaling carbon monoxide and then almost choking to death, her legs turn to jelly. They had indeed been yelling her name in the ER waiting area, and there were more than a few tears as they got her into the car. When she thinks back to all those years at City Tech, when she was just the weird girl whose mother murdered her father that barely anyone would talk to, she gets a lump in her throat. She’s still not used to people caring this much.</p><p class="p1">“Do you know how many people were following us around, asking what happened to you?” Linda asks. She flops down on the other side of Iris and tucks the blanket under her chin. “I feel like a celebrity groupie.”</p><p class="p1">Felicity, blue eyes wide and concerned, pushes a cup of tea into Iris’ hands. “Fee-”</p><p class="p1">“Tea with lemon and honey,” Felicity insists. “Thats what Caitlin and the doctors said, Iris. Have we checked her breathing?”</p><p class="p1">“We checked before we left,” Sara calls from the kitchen, from where she is slathering peanut butter on toast. “Breath sounds were clear and equal.”</p><p class="p1">“You got that from <em>Grey’s Anatomy</em>,” Iris laughs, though it has made her feel better. “But I feel fine, guys, really. My throat is a little sore and I kind of want to lie down soon, but I feel okay.”</p><p class="p1">“Good,” Felicity chirps. “Because then you can tell us why Barry Allen risked <em>life and limb</em> to save you from-”</p><p class="p1">“Oh my God, you guys! Where are you even reading this stuff?”</p><p class="p1">“Twitter really loves the two of you. Also, he’s been AWOL since he left the hospital, and Tommy said he went straight to bed when he got back,” Laurel tells her, tucking her legs underneath her. “Cisco went in and gave him food, but I don’t think he wanted to talk about it. Poor guy’s probably exhausted.”</p><p class="p1">“So that just leaves you,” Felicity says cheerily. She rests her chin on Iris’ knee and smiles winsomely up at her. “Come on. Tell us what’s up with you and Central City Superman.”</p><p class="p1">“And don’t say he was just being nice,” Sara adds, breezing into the living room with peanut butter and honey on toast, along with half a banana. She sets the plate down in front of Iris. “Because I’ve played Uno with that guy, and he can be a stone-cold bastard when he wants to be. Boys don’t just save the lives of girls they know from Jitters.”</p><p class="p1">Iris shares a look with Linda, before sighing. “Alright. Barry and I…used to go to the same high school. My first high school. And before my dad died, we were best friends. But then my dad…” she swallows, “was…he died, and then I moved to the other side of the city, and we hadn’t seen each other for…five years? Until last week.”</p><p class="p1">“You went to school with Barry Allen?” Felicity asks, frowning. “How did we not know that? He didn’t…I mean, you’ve never mentioned each other. Have you?”</p><p class="p1">“No,” she admits. She’s not going to admit that Barry apparently never even remembered her. The chest pain from the smoke is bad enough. “Well…you know, it was high school, and I was really messed up after everything happened, and I kind of didn’t want to remember that place, or anything about my life before my dad died. And we’d grown apart by then, and I didn’t want to make it awkward, you know?”</p><p class="p1">They are silent while they take this in - except for Linda and Laurel, who are giving her a look. Iris rolls her eyes. “We didn’t see each other for five years, and then we hooked up.”</p><p class="p1">“WHAT<em>?” </em>Sara demands. She sets her beer down on the table. “You hooked up with Barry Allen? When?”</p><p class="p1">“Last week,” she admits. “And last night. Well. This morning, technically.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris!” Felicity laughs, poking her. “Barry is the guy you brought home last week? How did that happen?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, you can blame your boyfriend for that. He came here to try to make up with you after your fight - after he stole flowers from Mrs. Stein’s garden, by the way - and Barry and I had to get him home before the Warden over here-“</p><p class="p1">“Hey!” Laurel said indignantly. “If we get one more notice they’re going to try to kick us out!”</p><p class="p1">“The <em>Warden</em> heard anything. And then he walked me back and - look, we were drunk, and it didn’t mean anything-”</p><p class="p1">“Oh yeah, it didn’t mean anything so much that as soon as he turned up at the party you ran off to have sex with him again,” Laurel snorts. “Are you two dating now?”</p><p class="p1">“<em>No</em>,” Iris says forcefully, even as her stomach swoops at the thought. “He’s on the rebound, and we’re just friends.”</p><p class="p1">“That doesn’t mean anything,” Sara says, waving a hand. “You can keep hooking up with him, if you want. As long as you don’t put your heart in your hoohah.” Linda stares at her.</p><p class="p1">“Don’t put her heart in her…what?”</p><p class="p1">“Don’t put your heart in your hoohah. Don’t fall in love with a boy because he’s giving you sex.”</p><p class="p1">Iris suddenly starts to find her tea leaves very interesting, ignoring the look that Linda is giving her. Meanwhile, Felicity just rolls her eyes. “Iris would never do that. Kyle was giving her sex and she never fell in love with him.”</p><p class="p1">“Wait, you were never in love with Kyle?” Sara frowns. “You dated him for six months!”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, and she hid from him in the library for four of them,” Linda points out. “Kyle was cute but he was…”</p><p class="p1">“Nice,” she and Iris say together. Iris sips her tea as Sara frowns.</p><p class="p1">“Nice? Whats wrong with nice?”</p><p class="p1">“There’s guys who are nice, and then there are Nice Guys,” Iris says she says simply. “Kyle was a Nice Guy. He thought he was so much smarter than me, and I’m pretty sure the only reason we were still dating is because I thought he was cute. Also, I complained about him, like, all the time, Sara. Do you even live here?”</p><p class="p1">Everyone laughs and Felicity takes her tea, setting it on the table. “Barry’s so <em>cute</em>, though. And yeah, I know he’s probably on the rebound, but that’s total fuck-buddy material.”</p><p class="p1">“Thats what I said!” Linda grins. “And, between you and me, Patty totally traded down. Thad’s an asshole.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh god, Laurel, you <em>have </em>to tell us what everyone’s saying about them,” Felicity says. “Nobody on any of my course knows Patty, and you’re the only one I know who does law.” But Laurel is shaking her head, much to the disappointment of everyone else. Iris is glad. Barry and her are brand new friends again; it would be weird hearing about his relationship from anyone other than him. She remembers the tired, dejected look he’d had on his face when he explained their breakup, not to mention the humiliation of having it broadcast for the whole university campus to see. It made her want to pull him into a hug and protect him from all the ways the world promised to hurt people. And punch Patty Spivot in her pretty, perfect face.</p><p class="p1">“Look,” Laurel says, bringing Iris back to the present. “I don’t know much about it, but I do know that Patty barely talked about Barry for the past few months, and now she talks about Thad all the time. She seems to really like him.”</p><p class="p1">“I bet Thad wouldn’t run into a burning building for her,” is all Felicity says.</p><p class="p1">Linda stays with Iris that night, climbing into bed with her after the other girls have retreated to their rooms. Iris had tried to insist she didn’t need it, but honestly, she’s grateful for the company., and knows Linda can tell she’s still upset bu Thad visiting. They stare up at the glow in the dark stars she put up on the ceiling when Laurel let them move in last year. Her friend leans over and squeezes her hand.</p><p class="p1">“I know we always say you’re going to blow yourself up, but that doesn’t mean you actually have to go and do it.”</p><p class="p1">Iris laughs softly, scratching at the scarf she’s wrapped over her head. “Yeah, well, I thought it’d be a great ending for my presentation. For my finale, I was going to set Harrison Wells on fire.”</p><p class="p1">Linda pauses. “Has he talked to you?”</p><p class="p1">“Has who talked to me?”</p><p class="p1">“Bruce Wayne,” she laughs. “I hear he just <em>adores</em> biochem students. Iris, has Barry - the guy who <em>saved your life</em> today - talked to you?” Iris squirms a little.</p><p class="p1">“Not since the hospital. He’s okay, I think, Caitlin said he was a little winded and maybe he breathed in some smoke that got in my hair, but he’s fine.”</p><p class="p1">“And no explanation for why he, and I quote “went full Superman” today?”</p><p class="p1">“Nope. I told him it was stupid, but I can’t exactly complain, since apparently the campus police chief was just going to let me get extra crispy in there.” Linda leans back against the pillows.</p><p class="p1">“Barry Allen,” she says, shaking her head. “That guy is full of surprises. First the flowers for Patty, and now this. As grand gestures go, he’s really setting a high bar for himself.”</p><p class="p1">Iris feels her face get hot at the words “grand gesture”. “He doesn’t think of me like - we’re friends. ”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Sexy</em> friends.”</p><p class="p1">“We never actually got around to discussing that part.”</p><p class="p1">“I bet you didn’t, Lois Lane. What did he say when he left?”</p><p class="p1">“Not much,” she admits. “I was thanking him, and he kept saying it wasn’t a big deal, and then he got freaked out about my necklace and left.” Linda tips her head, points at the little lightning bolt resting on her chest.</p><p class="p1">“This little guy? The one your dad gave you before he died? Why?”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t know,” she frowns. “I don’t think he’s even seen it before. Maybe my dad mentioned it to him, but I don’t think so. We’d stopped talking by then.”</p><p class="p1">“Maybe he was in shock?” Linda suggests. She lies back in the pillows. “I mean, are you guys…”</p><p class="p1">“We’re friends,” Iris says slowly. She thinks of the look on Barry’s face when he had been asking her to be friends again. She had assumed, when years went by and she got visits from Nora and didn’t hear anything from Barry himself, that he had gotten over their friendship. She hadn’t expected all that earnestness. But then, it’s Barry. He always looks at you like you’re holding the whole world in the palm of your hand. “I was going to call him and talk about it, but then I almost got set on fire, but…yeah. Friends. Subtitle to be confirmed.”</p><p class="p1">Linda regards her for a moment. “Well,” she says finally, “any guy who runs into a building to save you because he thinks you might die is a great friend to have.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Okay, so here’s the thing about getting saved from a burning building by Barry Allen:</p><p class="p1">You can’t really escape it.</p><p class="p1">First of all, there’s the video, which has been texted to her phone numerous times (also the memes of the video, and the gifs of the video, and the one version set to <em>Star Wars</em> theme tune, which Iris is a little in love with), because people have apparently forgotten that she lived it? She <em>is</em> kind of fascinated by it, though. There are a few different versions, but this one is the most common, probably because this person got the bright idea to start filming as soon as Alex and the campus police chief started yelling at each other. Then Barry walks up, frowning, watching the two of them argue, until Alex says something to him and his whole face jolts in shock, and then he frowns. Then while the other two are arguing, he dumps his bag on the floor and is running inside the building, body-checking a campus police officer on the way and throwing the doors open. An almighty gasp goes up and then everyone starts shouting and gesticulating excitedly once they realise what’s happened. Then, once you skip over the five minutes of tense silence while Alex yells even louder and an ambulance turns up, Barry comes out of the building carrying her in his arms, shouting for someone to get him a medic. It’s pretty embarrassing, really.</p><p class="p1">Oh, not Barry. Barry looks every bit of the dashing knight in shining armour everyone’s making him out to be. She doesn’t remember it, but he somehow managed to get her backpack over his shoulders and she can see him handing it off to Stephen, the medic working with Caitlin, after he’s set her down on the gurney. She can see him snapping at people to back up, and insists on climbing into the ambulance with her. She, on the other hand, is apparently trying to cough up her heart from her chest cavity every time she takes a breath, she’s shaking like a leaf in Barry’s arms and, all in all, looks pretty helpless. She also has a confused, vacant look on her face, which she guesses she can understand, but is also really embarrassing.</p><p class="p1">(Also, she’s an idiot. Barry Allen rescued her from a burning building, complete with bridal carry and her arms looped around his neck, and she was so loopy from the carbon monoxide she didn’t even get to enjoy it. Honestly, what was even the point?)</p><p class="p1">Second, there’s the fact that everyone else apparently doesn’t have anything else to talk about. Iris knows its the beginning of the semester and people don’t have enough assignments to keep them distracted, but really, does <em>everyone</em> have to come up to her and tell her how amazing Barry is? And how cute they looked? And how people don’t think Barry’s as pathetic as they did last week? Her face is starting to hurt from all the smiling and nodding. By the time she makes it to the police station to give her statement, her entire face hurts.</p><p class="p1">In the end, its pretty boring, in an interview room in the nurse’s office, with a welfare officer as well as the campus police officer. She tells them what she told Thad, they ask her a couple of questions to make sure they’ve understood everything, and then send her on her way. But then the welfare officer, a friendly blonde lady about her mother’s age, calls her back.</p><p class="p1">“Wait, Miss West?” she says. “You’re required to make an appointment with the me again at some point in the next two weeks, to see how you’re doing after the incident. Would you also like me to request an appointment with a therapist?”</p><p class="p1">All at once, Iris tenses. “No. No, thank you.”</p><p class="p1">She hesitates, Iris’ case file in her hands. Iris hates that thing. Her old social worker had to submit it to her college when she got accepted, and there are copies with her old dorm adviser and the current dean of the university. “Are you sure? Because-”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t need a therapist,” she interrupts. She picks up her backpack. “And I have a class. Do you need anything else?”</p><p class="p1">“No,” she says finally, and Iris hates the pity in her eyes more than anything else. Thats how she knows she’s read it. “Take care, Miss West.”</p><p class="p1">“Thank you.”</p><p class="p1">From there she heads back to the block of science buildings - even though technically she had promised Linda that she would stay in bed today. But Linda takes classes across campus, and then she has a meeting at the paper, so she hopefully won’t see her.</p><p class="p1">Hopefully.</p><p class="p1">Fall has arrived early, the warm summer mornings giving way to cool crisp ones, the leaves on all the oak trees turning brown and red. Classes are starting up again for everyone, not just the physical sciences, and more and more people are arriving for the start of the year. Unfortunately, that just means more people to point and stare at her. She had briefly considered listening to Linda (and Felicity, and Laurel) and going back to her lectures tomorrow, but then she had heard her father’s voice, warm and firm, telling her to keep her chin up.</p><p class="p1">“Don’t ever let them see you sweat, baby,” she remembers him saying before tests, about clarinet recitals, during chess tournaments. “Head high and show ‘em how its done.”</p><p class="p1">Iris picks up a coffee from Jitters and has the Grace Building in sight when her phone starts buzzing:</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Mom x</em>
</p><p class="p1">“Hi, mom,” she says hesitantly, once she’s answered the call. “Um. How are you?”</p><p class="p1">“Iris Ann West,” her mother sighs, “do you know how often a mother likes to get a call from one of her daughter’s friends saying that their daughter has carbon monoxide poisoning?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m guessing never?” she jokes, and her mother manages a laugh, though it shakes slightly.</p><p class="p1">“Irey. Baby, what on earth am I going to do with you?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m fine, mom, I promise,” she replies. “I didn’t really even inhale that much smoke, and the painkillers helped. Did Felicity tell you? And Dr. Tannhauser? I asked her to call you-”</p><p class="p1">“Yes, honey, they were both very helpful. I actually met Carla at a conference a few years back, before…everything, so it was interesting to hear from here. Now, she said that you have to go in and ask her for her, or get Caitlin to ask for you-”</p><p class="p1">“I will,” she promises. “I will, mom. You’re sure you’re not worried? Because I’m really okay. I’m already going back to classes.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris, you almost died yesterday! You can stay in bed if you want.”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t want to stay in bed,” she replies grumpily, folding her arms, and her mother laughs. “You sound like Linda.”</p><p class="p1">“Linda’s right.”</p><p class="p1">“No, she’s not. I’m right.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris, are you folding your arms?”</p><p class="p1">“No.”</p><p class="p1">“Are you scowling?”</p><p class="p1">“No.”</p><p class="p1">Her mother bursts out laughing, and Iris grins sheepishly into the phone. “I miss you, baby girl,” she says, a smile in her voice, and Iris smiles.</p><p class="p1">“I miss you too. And I’m really, really okay. How’s the cruise?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh! It’s wonderful, really. You know your dad always loved the islands, when we got to come out here. And I’ve…spread the ashes, so now it’s back up through New Orleans in a week, then Texas to see your grandma, then to D.C., and then I’ll be here to see you for your competition.”</p><p class="p1">“Sounds good!”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, and I met this lovely lady - Agatha - who has a very handsome grandson-”</p><p class="p1">“Mom.” Iris knows where this is going.</p><p class="p1">“-and he actually goes to your college! Now, she texted me a picture of him-”</p><p class="p1">“Mom - mama, I don’t - I don’t want to see his picture-”</p><p class="p1">“See, I’ve texted it to you. Don’t you think he’s handsome?”</p><p class="p1">Iris relents and looks at the picture. He is a very nice, handsome boy that she feels absolutely no attraction to whatsoever. “Okay, mom, he’s cute, but-”</p><p class="p1">“Do you want his number?”</p><p class="p1">She pinches the bridge of her nose. “No, mom, I don’t want his number. Haven’t we talked about this?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t have fun, baby,” her mother says. “Look, I know you said that Kyle wasn’t for you-”</p><p class="p1">“He wasn’t.”</p><p class="p1">“-but that doesn’t mean you should make school your whole life. Thats not how you <em>get</em> a life.”</p><p class="p1">“You made school school your whole life and that’s how dad fell in love with you.”</p><p class="p1">“Ah,” she says. “I’m a surgeon, Iris, I had to make school my whole life, and your father was very persistent.”</p><p class="p1">Iris sniffles, her throat suddenly tight. “Yeah,” she says quietly. “Yeah, you’re right. Okay, I promise to keep an open mind.”</p><p class="p1">“Good. Okay, now, you go on to class, baby, I’ll call you tonight. Oh!” she says suddenly. “Felicity says someone you know saved you from the building. Who was it?’</p><p class="p1"><em>I will kill her</em>. “Uh - um, no one, I think she was confused. I’ll call you tonight, love you, bye!”</p><p class="p1">Iris puts the phone back in her pocket and heads into class, nodding politely at all the people smiling as she sits down. The thing is, she knows her mother means well. She also guesses its one of the perils of being an only child - there’s no one else around to take the pressure off. She just wishes her mother would get that, for right now, she’s not really into dating anyone at all at the moment. The thing she hadn’t told anyone else about Kyle was that, apart from being a Nice Guy, she hadn’t really felt like she could be more than superficial for him. Which is the story of her life, really. And her mother doesn’t mean to make her feel guilty about it, she can tell. She just wants her to be happy. Iris sighs, opening up her laptop as Professor Stein starts the class. It would be easy for her to be happy, if only she can figure out what it is she wants.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @ohdannyboy123: omg iris is west is so hot in person is she really single #spottedatccu</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @dearmandy: @barrytheallen come get ur girl lol</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @princeofpurdue: why is she in class? </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @neganthestallion96: maybe because she wants to be? I hope shes ok tho</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @sofiathethirst: forget her is Barry single? he’s not with that patty girl anymore is he</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @dearmandy: yes PLEASE I would climb him like a tree </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Iris grits her teeth and switches her profile to private, before trying to catch the end of Professor Steins’ lecture. She has no idea how Barry managed this without wanting to shoot people. She taps her pen, looking up at the clock. She got his number from Felicity this morning, but she can’t bring herself to call him. What is she supposed to say? “I’m really glad we’re friends again but I’m pretty sure I thought you were the love of my life in high school, so this is kind of awkward, also do you want to be friends with benefits? By the way, thanks for saving my life.” Honestly.</p><p class="p1">Her life with Barry like was much simpler when she was avoiding him.</p><p class="p1">She sighs, trying to concentrate on Professor Stein, who’s about to start wrapping up his lecture. It’s on the Theory of Parallel Earths. Thats another reason she hadn’t wanted to miss this - he always does all the fun lectures once a month, and she’d been waiting for this one since he announced it earlier in the year. This, she remembers, is why she chose him as her advisor for the Harrison Wells prize. Lots of people try to discredit him, but he never lets it phase him. Plus he’s one of the most adorable men she’s ever seen in her whole life, with his suede elbow patches and plaid shirts.</p><p class="p1">“…as many as fifty-two, so far,” he’s explaining, his voice magnified by the microphone. “Of course, while we don’t have enough evidence for this…”</p><p class="p1">After it’s over, she packs up her stuff, ignoring everyone’s eyes on her, and heads straight for the podium. Professor Stein blinks in surprise when he sees her. “Iris!” he exclaims, his expression halfway between delight and stern. “What on earth are you doing here? You should be resting.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, well, I’m fine, professor,” she replies cheerfully, still not quite over the fact that he called her Iris. The first time they had a meeting, he offered her Earl Grey tea. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry I don’t have the latest simulation-” But then he cuts her off with a hand, frowning.</p><p class="p1">“Now, Iris,” he says firmly, “I won’t hear of that. You have been through quite a traumatic experience, and I’m surprised you’re even in class today. You’ve made astonishing progress over the last few months and I only wanted to see a new version of the project because you seemed so excited about your findings. Are you quite sure you’re alright?”</p><p class="p1">She pushes her glasses up her nose, shy in the face of such sincerity. “I’m sure. And I can probably get it to you by-”</p><p class="p1">“The only thing I require from you is get yourself adequate rest. Who is your pastoral officer?”</p><p class="p1">“Professor McGee.”</p><p class="p1">“Right. I will notify Tina of this immediately and strongly urge her to contact your other lecturers, you should be able to take most of your classes while resting. I hear they’re doing wonderful things with Zoom. I do hope, at least, that you enjoyed the lecture.”</p><p class="p1">She smiles up at him. “I did, sir, thank you.”</p><p class="p1">“Very good.” He nods and then looks like he very much wants to hug her, before settling for a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We - that is, Marissa and I - were quite worried about you when we heard, Iris. She will be delighted to hear that you’re alright. I cannot imagine what an ordeal it must have been for you. Tell me, do you enjoy sponge cake?”</p><p class="p1">“I…I could eat a sponge cake?”</p><p class="p1">“Wonderful! We have a delicious recipe for sponge cake, and we would be happy to bake you one. Now, please go home and get some rest. There will always physics lectures, but there’s only one Iris West. And,” he adds, smiling mischievously, “I try not to get involved with such matters, but young Mr. Allen does seem rather…valiant. Quite a powerful thing, chivalry.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“<em>Iris is special</em>.”</p><p class="p1">The phrase comes to Barry at an inconvenient time, even though he knows innately its the answer to Cisco’s question. It’s just not the kind of thing you say out loud to someone who doesn’t know his history with Iris, which is why he doesn’t say it out loud. Or, now that he thinks about it, anyone who does. Cisco pops his head from around the carnations, eyebrow raised. “You didn’t answer my question.”</p><p class="p1">“I didn’t hear your question,” he lies, and Ronnie speaks up from behind him, holding a bunch of pink freesias.</p><p class="p1">“He said, ‘If you’re the one who saved Iris’ life, why are you the one getting her flowers?’ I mean, I kind of agree with him. Has she called you yet?”</p><p class="p1">Barry rubs his forehead briefly. They’re in the florist in the Northfield Mall, which Barry has dragged them to so he can find something to give to Iris when he goes to see her today. And its kind of an unspoken rule, that you give a sick person flowers, right? Cisco and Ronnie are supposed to be helping since he hasn’t gotten flowers for a girl since Patty broke up with him, and he strongly suspects that Tommy and Oliver instructed them both to keep an eye on him since apparently saving people from burning buildings indicates a psychotic break (and also they want to know why he did it because he hasn’t spilled the beans yet).</p><p class="p1">“She’s probably sleeping, Ronnie,” Barry points out, relieved at not to having to answer. He frowns critically between two sets of roses on a high shelf. “She almost died yesterday, you know. I’m going over there later, if Linda and Laurel will let me in. No, she won’t like those.”</p><p class="p1">“How do you know that?” Cisco asks, frowning at the red carnations. “You’ve said no to the roses, the dahlias, and the orchids-”</p><p class="p1">“Because she likes camellias,” he says without thinking, looking around. “White ones. And pink ones. And maybe lavender? She likes lavender, maybe the lavender roses?”</p><p class="p1">“How do you know what flowers she likes, Barry?” Ronnie wants to know. “What were you, interviewing her while you pulled her out of the smoke?”</p><p class="p1">“I didn’t pull her out of - that’s not…” he trails off at the expressions on their faces, rubbing the back of his head, before sighing. Well, he might as well get it over with, they’ll know sooner or later. “Iris and I, we…Uh, we went to high school together. A really long time ago.”</p><p class="p1">“You went to high school with Iris?” Cisco repeats. “I thought she went to City Tech.”</p><p class="p1">“She did,” he says, his throat tightening slightly. “But she used to go to Central City High. And it’s not - look, it isn’t really my place to tell you, but she moved to City Tech after something happened to her family, and we haven’t really spoken since then. I didn’t even know she went here, until last week.”</p><p class="p1">“Last week?” Cisco smiles wickedly. “You mean the last week were you were acting all squirrelly when you asked me who she was?”</p><p class="p1">“Cisco.”</p><p class="p1">“What happened last week?” Ronnie wants to know. “This is what happens when you live off-campus, you miss everything.”</p><p class="p1">Barry looks between Cisco’s grin and Ronnie’s confused expression, and then takes a deep breath. “Iris and I…hooked up, last week. And then again the day before yesterday.”</p><p class="p1">“I knew it,” Cisco smirked. “You were acting so weird every time you brought her name up. So did you guys date in high school, or what?”</p><p class="p1">“No, I told you, we were best friends. And then I guess we…grew apart, and then her dad died and she moved away, and last week was the first time I saw her. And - we were drunk, and…Look, just don’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t want it getting around.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, Barry, it might be a little late for that,” Cisco says. “When you’re running into burning buildings to save a girl, there’s not a lot of places people’s minds are going to go. I mean, not that I don’t think its awesome, and I don’t just think that because Iris is my friend, but people are bored, and you’ve given them something to talk about.”</p><p class="p1">“Wait, what? Do people think we’re-”</p><p class="p1">“Barry, are you not on Twitter, or something?” Ronnie asks, then realises what he’s said. “Oh, right. Sorry. But are you sure there’s nothing going on between you and Iris? And if there isn’t, why’d you do it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <strong>Barry and Iris are eight.</strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” his mother said.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry scowled at his mother over his enchiladas. His mom always cooked something fun when Iris was over, but now he couldn’t even enjoy it, because he was annoyed.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“Yes it was,” he disagreed vehemently. It had been horrible, what Becky Cooper did to him. What she </em>said<em> to him. It was like being in a nightmare.</em></p><p class="p1"><em>“She said she wanted to </em>kiss<em> me,” he repeated, his features scrunched up in horror. “Thats disgusting, why would anyone want to do that?”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Beside him, Iris tenses. “My parents like to kiss,” she tells him, having swallowed her food. But Barry looks even more horrified.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah, but they’re married, and its still disgusting,” he decided. “Girls are disgusting.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris started fiddling with her fork, and Nora laughed. “Barry, I’m sure Becky just likes you, but you’re only eight, so I don’t think you should be kissing anyone. And girls aren’t disgusting, I’m a girl, and so is Iris.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“But you’re my mom. And Iris isn’t a </em>girl<em> girl, she’s Iris. You don’t want to kiss me,” he said, turning to her. “Do you?”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris blinked at him, eyes wide behind her glasses. “N-No. Of course not.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“See?” Barry said triumphantly. But Nora looked a little disappointed and Iris looked a bit sad. She rubbed at her eyes behind her glasses.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I don’t feel well,” she said quietly, putting her fork down. “Can I call my dad to take me home?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Nora paused. “Of course you can, honey,” she sighed. “Why don’t you finish your water and I’ll call him for you?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris nodded and gulped down her water without a word, before hopping down from the chair and going to get her bookbag. Barry followed her, frowning. “Iris?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Are you okay?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I’m fine, Barry,” she said. But she didn’t look okay. Her mouth was turned down at the corners and she wasn’t looking at him properly.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Are you mad at me?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Are you sure?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>But the look on her face said otherwise, and Barry got the feeling Iris was mad at him and he didn’t know why. His stomach started to hurt. He hated it when Iris was mad at him, it always made him nervous. She never shouted when she was mad at him, which somehow made it worse. She packed up her stuff in her book bag, answering all his questions with “yes”, “no” or “maybe”. She didn’t even want to watch cartoons before she left, which meant she was really upset. When her dad rang the doorbell, she jumped off the couch like a jumping bean and waited for his mother to open the door.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris’ dad smiled down at her, kissing her on the forehead. “What’s the matter, baby girl?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I want to go home,” she said quietly. He shared a look with Nora, who raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything and Barry hated it when adults did that, why couldn’t they just say what they meant? Her dad nodded.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Okay. You wanna say thank you to Nora for having you over?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Thank you, Nora,” she said dutifully. </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You’re welcome, honey.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Bye, Iris,” Barry said hopefully, hovering uncertainly next to his mother. Normally, she hugged him goodbye. They hugged when they met and they hugged at the end of the day. Normally. But now, Iris twisted her hands in the straps of her bookbag, not looking at him.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Bye, Barry.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>After she left, Barry couldn’t even finish his enchilada. His mother stood at the sink, washing up. “Barry, you okay?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I think Iris is mad at me.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Why do you think so?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He hated it when his mother did this. She always asked him questions instead of giving him the answers. She said it made him smarter but really it just made his head hurt. He bit his lip. “Maybe…maybe when I said she wasn’t a girl girl?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I think so, too. I think you might have hurt her feelings.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“But I didn’t mean it badly,” he insisted, sitting up. “Iris isn’t like other girls. Like a girl girl. She’s special.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>His mother turned to him, eyebrows raised. “Special?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry nodded firmly. This, he knew, no one could persuade him from this. “Yeah. She’s really smart and really funny, and she knows everything about dinosaurs. None of the other girls ever know anything about dinosaurs - even you! And you’re a grownup.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>There was other stuff, as well. He was never bored when he was with Iris, they always found something to do, no matter where they were. She was always happy to see him, and she always wanted to play with him. And she was really brave, even though she didn’t look it. A few months ago, when Tony Woodward said that his dad left because he didn’t want to be Barry’s dad anymore, Iris rolled up her sleeves and lunged at him, punching him squarely in the nose. One minute they’d been doing reading; the next, Iris was pummelling Tony relentlessly between the puzzles and the beanbags. Tony ended up with a black eye and she’d hit him so hard that blood was streaming from his nose; their teacher and two teachers from another class had to physically pull her off him and she even managed to kick him in the shin before they gave up and lifted her clear off the ground where she couldn’t reach him. And she told him afterwards, even though her parents had to come in and Tony’s parents had shouted at Joe and she had broken her third pair of glasses this year, that she wasn’t even </em>sorry<em>. She did this thing with her eyes, like they were made of steel, when she punched Tony, and Barry didn’t think she was afraid of anything at all.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“And she always has the best adventures,” he continued. “And she taught me how to draw lightning storms, and she doesn’t complain when I want to race. She said she’s going to invent things when she grows up. All the other girls are boring, but not Iris.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>His mother’s lips twitched. “Because she’s special.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah. Iris is special.”</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Barry remembers that he apologised to Iris the next day, bringing her a brownie from the bakery that her dad liked to take her to that somehow got squished in his pocket. He’d knelt down in front of her on the swing underneath the tree in her backyard, while his mom talked to Iris’ mom about the camellias in her backyard. Iris had put her book down and looked at him, not saying anything.</p><p class="p1">“I’m really sorry, Iris,” he’d said. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”</p><p class="p1">She’d looked down at her hands, fiddling with the napkin the brownie came in. “Why am I not a girl girl, Barry?”</p><p class="p1">Barry had licked his lips. He’d wanted to tell her what he’d told his mother, but suddenly, with the June sun making Iris’ eyes the colour of honey, he felt weird saying it. It made his stomach feel funny in a different way than when she was mad at him. “Because you’re my best friend,” he’d said. “And you’re better than all the other girls. Than <em>everyone</em>.”</p><p class="p1">“Even Becky Cooper?”</p><p class="p1">“Even Becky Cooper,” he’d nodded. Then he’d swallowed. “And I decided. My mom says says that we’re too young to… kiss or anything like that, but when we’re old enough, if I have to kiss anyone, I think I would want to kiss you.”</p><p class="p1">Iris had stared at him, pushing her glasses up her nose. “R-Really?”</p><p class="p1">He had nodded, watching her carefully. “Yeah. Would you want to kiss me?”</p><p class="p1">She had been quiet for a moment, then shook her head. “No.”</p><p class="p1">“Why not?”</p><p class="p1">“Because you have brownie on your face.”</p><p class="p1">“What - <em>Iris</em>!” Barry had spluttered, as she shoved the brownie in his face, giggling, and then he chased her around the garden and up the tree before he climbed up himself. When they stopped laughing, he poked her in the stomach. “Iris?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah?”</p><p class="p1">He bit his lip. “Are you still mad at me?” She had smiled at him.</p><p class="p1">“No, Barry, I’m not mad at you.”</p><p class="p1">He knew he should have said it, like his mother told him, but he didn’t. That didn’t mean he stopped thinking it, though. He thought it later that week at school when Iris was the only one who knew the order of the planets. He thought when they were eleven, and they won for best Halloween costume at school when he went as Robin Hood and she went as Maid Marian. And he thought it as they grew up and grew apart, when the district merged the schools and they got put in different classes.</p><p class="p1">Barry hadn’t really anticipated it happening. But that summer she went to visit family in New Orleans, and she was gone for the whole month, then they made all new friends when they started middle school, and by the time they settled into the new pace of middle school they hadn’t spoken in ages. Still, though, they smiled at each other in corridors, a secret smile, like they knew no friendship would ever compare to theirs. And still, Barry thought Iris was special, because she never really stopped <em>being</em> special. He thought it when she became captain of the mathletes and walked around in the little T-shirt with Pythagoras jokes before competitions with the team, when all the teachers said she’d probably be valedictorian when they graduated, and even as Tony Woodward developed a crush on her but was still definitely sure she could give him a black eye again so didn’t do anything more than obnoxiously try to get her attention.</p><p class="p1">So then when he heard Iris was in the building, and that the firefighters wouldn’t get there on time, all he could think of was when they were small and she said she was going to invent things. Iris was brilliant and amazing and wonderful. She was special, and she still had things she wanted to do. So that’s why he did it.</p><p class="p1">But he isn’t going to tell that to his friends.</p><p class="p1">“Anyone would have done it,” he shrugs lightly. “You guys would’ve, if you could. And nothing’s going on between me and Iris. Apart from…you know. But other than that, we’re friends.”</p><p class="p1">“Huh,” Cisco says. “Well, damn. You know, its funny that you guys never met - or, re met - before now, but then Iris is always so busy.”</p><p class="p1">“She is?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, yeah. She’s been gunning for this Harrison Wells thing since she got here, and it’s not like you guys are even in the same classes.”</p><p class="p1">Barry doesn’t reply to this. He knows at least some of this is because she had been avoiding him. She had been - up until the party - still mad at him. And just like that night at Homecoming and all the weeks and months and years after, he has no idea why. “Well, it doesn’t matter,” he says. “We’re friends again, and I have to order these before I go to class, so come on. White ones or pink ones?”</p><p class="p1">“How about both?” Ronnie suggests. “Cait says-”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, Cait does?” Cisco grins, turning on Ronnie. “He’s had a girlfriend for all of twenty-four hours and now its ‘Cait says’.”</p><p class="p1">Barry smiles as Cisco starts ribbing Ronnie good-naturedly. Okay, there’s still a little part of him that flinches when he sees all the happy couples walking around campus, but Ronnie and Caitlin are pretty cute. Barry had barely facilitated the conversation (Caitlin is a little stern, but nice, and Ronnie kept doing this thing where he kept repeating what she said and nodding because he was so nervous) before they picked up their own natural thing and Ronnie not so subtly waved him away. He was going to leave, honestly, when he saw Iris talking to Linda. His first thought (well, his second actually, his first was that Iris boots looked too good on her to be legal) was that he wanted her to be his friend again. He just thought they’d get coffee and hang out occasionally, not that he’d save her from a building that was literally on fire.</p><p class="p1">He has to talk to the police today, and he also has a reprimand because apparently running into burning buildings to save your friends is against university policy or something. Whatever Everyone keeps congratulating him on not being so pathetic anymore (awesome), someone must have gotten his number from somewhere because now he keeps getting texts from random people, and now people think he and Iris are an item. Great.</p><p class="p1">He thinks back to the day before, when Dr. Tannhauser had asked if he was Iris’ boyfriend, and she’d reacted so strenuously she almost coughed up a lung. Which - its fine, because he and Iris have never been that to each other, but it still stings a little. And then he’d seen the necklace, and he hadn’t been able to breathe.And he had almost told her, he’d almost blurted it out, but then:</p><p class="p1">
  <em>My dad got me this for my birthday. I never take it off, why?</em>
</p><p class="p1">He had blinked, thrown, and then made a decision. Because Joe West had kept his promise, one he made on a hot autumn day on the porch in September, even until the day he died, so he’s going to keep his. He just hopes that she doesn’t bring it up again, because he doesn’t know if he can keep it secret.</p><p class="p1">Barry turns up his collar and heads to the Collins Building, which is where most of the humanities and social sciences students have their lectures. Cisco and Ronnie have to go to the Grace Building for the classes, so Barry arranges to pick the flowers up later. He’s looking forward to a pretty chilled day followed by a couple of hours at the paper, so his mood is improving. That is, until he rounds the corner of the building and runs straight into Amunet.</p><p class="p1">“Bartholomew,” she greets him in her trademark amused drawl. At least she’s shed that awful affected British accent that she insisted on speaking in when she did <em>An Inspector Calls</em> with the amateur drama club last year. “How are you?”</p><p class="p1">He honestly would have considered running away if it weren’t for the fact that she is standing right in front of him, raking her eyes over him in that way that she always has since he and Patty first started dating. Her violet blue eyes flash at him underneath light blonde lashes, and he notices that she’s dyed her her the same purple.</p><p class="p1">“I’m okay,” he says evenly. “How are you?”</p><p class="p1">“Comme ci comme ça. Time stops for no mouse, and all that. So. How are you doing after the…breakup?”</p><p class="p1">“I’ve been better,” Barry says dryly. “It’s not everyday your relationship implodes on Central City University News, so.”</p><p class="p1">“Yes, well, these things happen,” she says, nodding sagely. “And I can’t say I was exactly surprised at the developments. A friend can always tell when a friend is unhappy.”</p><p class="p1">“Uh-huh,” Barry replies, bored. He wishes he could pretend that he’s surprised, that Amunet Black, Patty’s best friend from way before Barry entered the picture, is basically here to tell him that she’s happy they broke up, but he isn’t. The first time he met Amunet, at a bar after his fourth date with Patty, she said she was thinking of getting dreadlocks because they were “in”. Barry, in his naïveté, suggested that wearing dreadlocks as a white girl from whitest place in Star City, may not be culturally sensitive, especially because they he described them as “in”. In one of the worst decisions Barry has ever made in his life - including the time he and Cisco decided to soak Haribos in vodka and tequila - he explained that lots of cultures considered them honourable so maybe she should think of a different hairstyle.</p><p class="p1">All of Patty’s other friends, clustered around the group to meet her new boyfriend, stared with widened eyes. And Amunet had smiled and said, “Well, aren’t you smart?”, and then proceeded to make his life a living hell.</p><p class="p1">All of his gifts to Patty got snarky little comments. All his stories in the paper had their sources questioned. Even his hair, which Barry admits he spends a lot of time on in the mornings, got ridiculed regularly. “Oh, she doesn’t mean it,” Patty had said, when he finally ran out of patience. “Thats just her humour. But I’ll talk to her.”</p><p class="p1">Which never worked, obviously. He hated when they had to hang out with her friends; being around here was like swimming with a bored piranha. Honestly, depression and heartbreak aside, one thing that made this all worth it was that he didn’t have to deal with Amunet anymore.</p><p class="p1">“When Patty first started having doubts,” she continues, “I said ‘Patts, don’t feel guilty for pursuing what you want, even if you hurt people along the way. Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds’.”</p><p class="p1">“Are you…quoting Albert Einstein at me to make me feel better about the fact that my girlfriend broke up with me on TV and started dating the guy who works across the room from me?” Amunet sighs dramatically.</p><p class="p1">“Now, Bartholomew, don’t be bitter. It doesn’t suit you. Why don’t you just think of it as Patty freeing you both to find the person who’s more suited to you both? For Patty, that’s people like Thaddeus, and for you-”</p><p class="p1">“That’s great advice, Amy,” Barry says innocently, and all at once the smile drops off her face.</p><p class="p1">“Now, Bartholomew, since we don’t have Patty in common anymore, I think its time we let go of certain friend privileges. Don’t call me ‘Amy’.”</p><p class="p1">“Sorry, I forgot. Just, we’ve been friends for so long, it might take me a minute to remember. But I’m sure I’ll get there in the end. Amy.”</p><p class="p1">Amunet purses her lips. “Whatever. I only wanted to see how you were doing, especially since you apparently have a penchant for running into burning buildings to save people. But since you’re acting like this, I’ll leave. Patty was right, you were too immature for her anyway.”</p><p class="p1">With that, she turned and strode off, leaving Barry with her words. He sighs and keeps walking towards the Collins Building. Amunet, for her part, is right, Patty had said that, just not in as many words. It was in the way she always wanted to go to wine and cheese nights where he wanted to go bowling, the way she always avoided watching musicals with him, how she was always telling him to dress more sophisticated and get more serious hobbies and think more seriously about his future. He remembers visiting her family in Minnesota. Her father was a lawyer and her mother came from money, and they’d gone to a ‘luncheon’ full of people who used summer as a verb and ate finger food in stupidly small portions.</p><p class="p1">Eddie told him that even though his dad basically got kicked out of the family when he married a “commoner” (“God,” he muttered, “what do they think this is, Downton Abbey?”), Eddie still had to go to a lot of the family events, and between the skiing, the socialising, and the sitting on various boards of charities he’s sure they didn’t actually know the name of, that sounds like the world Patty grew up in. Maybe Thad can give her all of that, and he can’t. Which probably shouldn’t hurt as much as it still does.</p><p class="p3">***</p><p class="p1">“Whats it called,” Kara says, “when you’re like in love with someone but they’re keeping you prisoner?”</p><p class="p1">Cisco, who’s eating fries with his feet on the desk, waves one at her. “My love life.”</p><p class="p1">Barry rolls his eyes. Kamilla is working on her pictures in the darkroom and Cisco has been throwing longing looks towards it since they got here. “Maybe, if you actually asked her out, instead of doing all that pseudo-flirting you’re doing, you wouldn’t feel like you’re being held prisoner.”</p><p class="p1">“Hey! I have a game plan!”</p><p class="p1">“Does that game plan include her making fun of you and shooting down all your jokes?” Kara wants to know. “Besides, that’s not what I meant. Like…like - it’s something to do with meatballs.”</p><p class="p1">“Meatballs?” Barry repeats. He frowns. “Kara, are you talking about Stockholm syndrome?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes! Yeah, we all have that.”</p><p class="p1">“What? No, we don’t.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, yeah? It is four o’clock on a Wednesday, our paper meeting doesn’t start for another hour, and yet here we all are, assignments ready, waiting. Because Cat Grant has given us all Stockholm syndrome.”</p><p class="p1">Barry can’t really argue with that. But then, he can’t really deny that he hasn’t loved being here since he first set foot in the office. He and Kara broke their first story together, about the coaches from Central City Park University who was doping up their students. Then he and Cisco had a run of comedy sketches that they’d worked on with a cartoonist over their first summer, and that’s when they got really close. And every time he breaks a story, he gets the same, heady thrill that he feels in his gut, in his blood and rushing through his body. So, maybe the Stockholm syndrome is worth it.</p><p class="p1">“Anyway, how’s your girlfriend?” Kara asks. “I can’t believe you never told me that you and Iris went to high school together!”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I didn’t even know she went here until a couple of weeks ago. Also, she’s not my girlfriend.”</p><p class="p1">Kara snorts incredulously, and Cisco reaches over for an onion ring. “Yeah, I don’t believe him either.”</p><p class="p1">“We’re friends!”</p><p class="p1">“Really? You should tell people that. I mean, you know everything thinks you’re dating, right?”</p><p class="p1">“Why does everyone think that?”</p><p class="p1">Without saying anything, Kara taps at her phone and holds it front of Barry’s face. He hasn’t seen the video of the rescue yet, and she’s cued it right up to the part where he bursts out of the building with Iris in his arms. Her head is resting on his chest and her arms are fastened securely around his neck. Then he starts yelling at everyone, which - okay, maybe that’s suggestive, but they were all idiots. Iris kept coughing and they were all just standing there arguing about where the fire people were.</p><p class="p1">“I…” he protests weakly. “We’re <em>friends</em>! What, you wouldn’t save one of your friends, if you could?”</p><p class="p1">“I mean, I’d lean into it, if I were you,” Kara says, taking her phone back. “Barry Allen saves girl from blazing inferno is way better than…” she trails off, eyes widening. “Um.”</p><p class="p1">“Barry gets dumped for Central City University’s favourite jawline?” he remarks. “Look, Iris and I were really close, before her dad died. I’ve known her since I was five. It was instinct. Besides, she used to do the same for me.”</p><p class="p1">Cisco stares at him. “She pulled your giraffe-ass out of a fire?”</p><p class="p1">“No,” he laughs. “There was this bully, Tony Woodward, who used to pick on me for whatever reason. He said some shit to me about my dad, and Iris gave him a black eye and almost broke his nose. We were eight, and he never went near me again.”</p><p class="p1">Cisco tips his head and Kara whistles. “Wow. She’s just so adorable, though. Wouldn’t know it to look at her.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, well, she has a pretty mean right hook,” he laughs fondly. “Her dad used to-”</p><p class="p1">“Does this look like a diner, Ramon?”</p><p class="p1">Cisco scrambles to take his feet off the desk as Cat walks in, coffee in hand. She narrows her eyes at all of them. “Allen. You’re alive and well. No permanent damage, I take it?”</p><p class="p1">“Uh, no, ma’am,” he says quickly. “No permanent damage.”</p><p class="p1">“And your…friend, Miss West? The one from the Harrison Wells competition?”</p><p class="p1">“She’s fine. I think. I’m going to see her today, so.” She frowns at him.</p><p class="p1">“Word of advice, Allen, when you’re trying to woo a girl, saving her life is a good start, but you have to maintain the momentum. At least give her a call.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m no trying to woo-”</p><p class="p1">“Everyone, make sure you’re ready for the meeting in ten,” she interrupts breezily. “I have an announcement and I’d like you all to concentrate for once.”</p><p class="p1">Cat strides into her office and slams the door behind her. “She’s in a good mood!” Kara remarks pleasantly. “I wonder what the announcement is.”</p><p class="p1">“Probably that one of us is her latest ritual sacrifice,” Cisco suggests darkly. Then he glances at the door and clears his throat, before rolling away back to his desk. Patty, Thad and Scott are chatting about the bulletins for that night’s announcement, and then Linda brings up the rear, grinning when she sees all of them. Scott gives him a friendly wave and starts telling Patty something. “Hey, Central City Superman,” Linda laughs, and Kara holds up her hand for a high-five.</p><p class="p1">“I like it.”</p><p class="p1">“We should totally get T-shirts made,” Cisco says, and Barry groans.</p><p class="p1">“I’m sitting right here, guys.”</p><p class="p1">“I know, we see you.”</p><p class="p1">Barry rolls his eyes. Linda taps him on the shoulder. “Actually, Barry, could I talk to you for a sec?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh,” he says, surprised. Kara goes to her desk to take a call and Linda sits in the seat next to him. “Sure. Whats up?”</p><p class="p1">“Its…Look, I know this is the newsroom, and we have to be on top of everything, and get both sides of the story. Its just - Iris was really tired, last night, and she really shouldn’t have been talking to anyone, and it really upset her…”</p><p class="p1">“Wait, what are you talking about?” Barry frowns. “Who upset her?” Linda blinks at him.</p><p class="p1">“Thad. He came to our place yesterday to ask Iris what happened at the fire, for the paper. And I get it, really, but she wasn’t expecting it, and with everything that happened, I thought maybe she could talk to me - or you, since-”</p><p class="p1">“Thad did <em>what</em>?” he demands. “What did he say to her? Is she okay?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, I mean, she’s fine now, but you know, with everything that happened with her dad, she doesn’t really like talking to reporters. It took me and Scott weeks to convince her to do that article on her.”</p><p class="p1">Barry clenches his jaw and glances at Cat’s office, where Thad has just disappeared. He doesn’t, actually. Its a stark reminder that despite their newly-renewed friendship, there’s still five years worth of life between them. “Right.”</p><p class="p1">“And he just asked her about what happened. Laurel got him out and told him to talk to the police instead. Look, could you just talk to him? Maybe tell him that one of us will get a quote from her if we need one?”</p><p class="p1">“I will,” he promises. “Don’t worry about it. You’re sure she’s okay?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, she went to class today without any of us noticing, but Felicity tracked her down and dragged her back to the house. She’s making her watch <em>Desperate Housewives</em>.”</p><p class="p1">“She went to class? She’s supposed to be resting!”</p><p class="p1">“Iris West, ladies and gentlemen,” she laughs. “How about you, are you okay?”</p><p class="p1">Barry shrugs. “I’m fine, really. I was just a little tired yesterday.” Linda peers at him.</p><p class="p1">“You know everyone thinks you’re dating, right?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. Which isn’t awkward at all, or anything. Is she okay for visitors? I wanted to see how she is, but-”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, she’s fine for visitors as long as you don’t do anything to upset her,” she replies, waving a hand. “Come whenever you want.”</p><p class="p1">“Sure,” Barry says, then watches as Thad comes out of the office. He stands abruptly and walks towards him. “Thad? Can we talk for a second?” He gestures to corridor and walks out before he can say anything, and Thad follows him out, his expression curious and midly confused.</p><p class="p1">“Everything okay, Allen?”</p><p class="p1">“Did you go to Iris West’s house yesterday to ask her what happened at the Murray Building?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, why?” Barry stares at him.</p><p class="p1">“You don’t think maybe you could have waited - I don’t know - maybe a day, before you accosted her in her house?” Barry demands. “She just went through something traumatic.”</p><p class="p1">“I didn’t <em>accost</em> her,” Thad replies irritably. “Her roommate let me in and she agreed to talk to me.”</p><p class="p1">“She probably agreed to talk to you because she was in shock. I know its important to get the most up to date information from people, but we should probably wait to talk to the police first.” He folds his arms. “What would you even need to know about that you couldn’t get from me?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, Barry, you weren’t in the building when the fire started,” he replies dryly. “So there’s that. Besides, I wanted to confirm some details with her, and I wanted to get them while they were fresh in her mind.”</p><p class="p1">“And that couldn’t wait until she at least got some sleep?”</p><p class="p1">“Scott, Patty and me are prepping the news points for tonight,” he points out. “So, no, not really.”</p><p class="p1">“Actually, you could have just gone to the police, so yeah, it probably could,” Barry says heatedly. He shakes his head. “Whatever, I don’t care. Don’t use anything you got from her, get the report from the campus police and use what they said instead.” Thad glares at him.</p><p class="p1">“I already have perfectly good quotes, and they’re a great lead-in to the story! Why the hell shouldn’t I use it?”</p><p class="p1">“You have a quote from someone who was almost killed yesterday, and you only have it because you ambushed her in her house,” he retorts. “She was in no position to give you an interview and you were in no position to ask for one. You’re lucky the story isn’t “Thaddeus Thawne Lacks Basic Compassion”.”</p><p class="p1">Thad rolls his eyes. “Look, Allen, I don’t tell you how to write your stories, how about you don’t tell me how to put a story on the news. Some of us understand how TV works better than others.”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t care you’re breaking a story on MSNBC, Thad,” Barry snaps, taking a step closer to him, “you’re not using that interview, and if I find out that you so much as asked Iris for the <em>time</em>-”</p><p class="p1">“<em>What</em>, what are you going to do, because I-”</p><p class="p1">“Unless the two of you want to go outside and start beating your chests with your fists,” Cat says icily, suddenly appearing in front of them, “I suggest you both be quiet. Separate.”</p><p class="p1">Barry stakes a breath and a step back, watching Thad do the same. “Allen, Thawne is doing a story on Harrison Wells. He pitched it to me a couple of days ago, and he’s going to talk to all the finalists as part of it. Though, like you, I would have preferred it if he kept the interview to the science instead of interviewing sources when they’ve been pulled out of burning buildings. Those of us who understand how to write stories would call that “burying the lede”,” she says, eyebrow raised, and Thad folds his arms.</p><p class="p1">“I was going to tell him,” he mutters, and she waves a hand.</p><p class="p1">“I’m sure. Don’t use that quote and work with Scott on the bulletins for tonight; you can get the release from the campus police. And don’t bother anymore sources at home unless they invite you in.” She pauses, looking between the two of them. “Now, are the two of you ready to make nice?”</p><p class="p1">Thad nods and Barry thinks that the sudden urge to hit him has mostly subsided, so he nods too. “Good. In here, I need to tell you all something.”</p><p class="p1">Cisco is giving him a look when he sits back down. “What?”</p><p class="p1">“<em>She’s not my girlfriend</em>.”</p><p class="p1">“Also,” Kara interjects, before Barry can say anything, “you know that you’re the <em>chief</em> of this paper, not the sheriff, right? And that there are two of us?”</p><p class="p1">Kamilla, who’s back from the dark room, giggles as she sits down next to Linda. Linda herself is looking at him with unreadable expression, before she turns to Cat. He glances across the room and sees that Patty is looking at him too, and resists the urge to roll his eyes. Great, now she’s going to think that was about her, instead of Thad and his lack of boundaries.</p><p class="p1">“A few of you may know that the Galaxy Communications Annual Christmas Ball will be held here in Central City this year,” she tells them. “Which I suppose it what happens when Morgan Edge buys a new building right in the middle of the city and wants to show it off to all the people who work for him. Guests will include reporters and news anchors from The Daily Planet, Central City Picture News, and the Gotham Gazette. And CatCo, obviously. And this year, you’re all invited.” She frowns slightly at their gasps of surprise and excitement. “Don’t get happy. This isn’t a party for you, this is an opportunity. Reporters from the best newspapers and TV stations in the country will be there; this will be your chance to network and find opportunities for your futures. Do not embarrass me.” They quiet down under her steely glare. “Come into my office and collect your tickets before you leave, you each get one and a plus one. Back to work.”</p><p class="p1">As soon as she shuts the door behind her, Barry turns to Kara. “Is-”</p><p class="p1">“Yes, Barry, Clark will be there,” she laughs. “He told me yesterday, and he’s bringing Lois. If you promise not to propose, I will introduce you.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh my God, Vicki Vale is going,” Kamilla breathes, scrolling through something on her phone. “She posted a photo of the invite on Instagram!” Linda leans forward.</p><p class="p1">“Vicki Vale?”</p><p class="p1">“First picture of Batman,” Kara whispers back. “You know, speaking of Stockholm syndrome, we’re going to get to meet all the people that Cat used to terrorise in National City; all the people in CatCo are going to be there.”</p><p class="p1">“If we embarrass her in front of them, she’ll scalp us and hang us like trophies,” Cisco grumbles. Kamilla shakes her head, laughing, and he nods. “She will,” he insists. “Right next to her Pulitzer.”</p><p class="p1">“Come on, guys, it’ll be great,” Barry says encouragingly. “And <em>we’ll</em> be great. Cisco, there’s never been a radio show as successful as yours since CCU News became a thing. Kamiila, Vicki’s going to love your photos, and I’m sure she’ll love to give you some advice. And Linda, by the time we get to Christmas, you’ll have revived the sports section. I know its corny, but you gotta think positive.”</p><p class="p1">“Whoa, hey,” Kara frowns. “Where’s my positivity, sheriff-in-chief?” Barry grins at her.</p><p class="p1">“And where would we be without the reporter who broke the Central City Park University union story?”</p><p class="p1">“Thats better.”</p><p class="p1">“Whatever. Look, everyone has their assignments, so…”</p><p class="p1">They spend a couple more hours at the paper, with Kara and Barry promising to meet up to go over the layout for that month’s paper. They usually put everything online and then release a paper once a month. Not because they can’t afford more - Cat may snarl at them on a daily basis, but she’s as passionate about the paper as them and has more than enough from CatCo to bankroll things - but because they don’t have more time. One of the requirements she has for CCU News is that people maintain their GPAs, and that won’t work with them spending all their time at the paper.</p><p class="p1">He’s packing up his stuff when Patty walks up to him, her expression timid, and honestly Barry’s annoyed at that because he’s the one who was dumped in front of their entire campus. But then, if he knows Patty, she hadn’t actually been trying to rip his heart out and throw it in a blender. “Can I talk to you?”</p><p class="p1">Cisco gives him a look, before clearing his throat. “See you at home, chief.” He nods politely at Patty before walking out, Kara and Linda following.</p><p class="p1">“Sure,” Barry shrugs easily, putting the rest of his things in his bag. She waits until everyone has left and takes a deep breath. “So. Um. Hi.”</p><p class="p1">“Hi,” he says evenly. She gives a nervous laugh, but Barry doesn’t budge. “Look, if this is about earlier-”</p><p class="p1">“It’s not, that’s - It’s not,” she says firmly. “I actually just wanted to check if you’re okay. Are you? Are you okay?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m fine.”</p><p class="p1">“Are you sure? Because the fire…” She reaches for his hands, but then trails off as Barry withdraws them and folds his arms. She swallows. “Right. Well, I just thought I’d check.”</p><p class="p1">“Consider me checked.”</p><p class="p1">Patty studies him. “I recognised her, you know.” He frowns.</p><p class="p1">“You recognised who?”</p><p class="p1">“Her. Iris.”</p><p class="p1">At his confused look, she continues. “Last Christmas, when I came to stay with you and your mom, and I wanted an extra blanket. You told me to look in the cupboard under the stairs, and I found all this...stuff, in a box. You know, like train ticket stubs, and science museum flyers, and this book, '<em>A Hundred Million Stars</em>' with some photo-booth pictures as the bookmark from - I guess you guys must have been fifteen…”</p><p class="p1">Barry tenses. He does remember that day. He’d been making coffee for everyone while his mother cut some pie, and then Patty called him over to the box of stuff that had, essentially, contained his whole friendship with Iris. The box he had filled with their pictures, and all the gifts she’d given him over the years, and everything that reminded him of her since he realised they’d never be friends again. “Right.”</p><p class="p1">“And I asked you if she was your ex-girlfriend or something and you said you didn’t want to talk about it-”</p><p class="p1">“And I still don’t,” he says firmly. He hadn’t realised Patty remembered that, not when he had trained himself so well to forget about it. Looking at that box always brought him back to that horrible time after Homecoming, when Iris avoided him completely, no matter how many times he tried to track her down. Then the anger and resentment, since she was mad at him - and mad enough to start hanging out with <em>Tony Woodward</em> on her lunch breaks for several weeks afterward, instead of him - and wouldn’t even tell him why. He’s not particularly proud of how he acted during that time, and he knows he’s agreed with Iris to put it behind them, but there’s still a part of him that wants to know what the hell he could have done for her to cut their friendship off so suddenly.</p><p class="p1">“We were friends, and…something happened, and then we weren’t. But I didn’t even know she went here until a few weeks ago, and like I told the police, the only reason I did it was because that dumb campus police officer was going to stand around not doing anything and the firefighters were five minutes away.”</p><p class="p1">Patty regards him for a moment, before nodding slowly. “Okay. As long as you’re good, then. I also wanted to give you this,” she adds, and he lets out a sigh of relief.</p><p class="p1">“My car keys. I thought I’d-“</p><p class="p1">“Lost them. Yeah, I figured.” She takes a deep breath. “Anyway, I’m gonna go, Scott wants us ready in a few minutes.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, of course,” he says easily. “Have a good one.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @jackthegiantkiller: #spottedatccu anyone else see patty and thad on tv tonight</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @knickknolte: how does that Barry guy work with him, what a wimp</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @jackthegiantkiller: right? How do you let all that get away from you and not want to punch that guy</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @knickknolte: couldn’t be me, is all I’m saying</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Okay, so realistically, Iris knows that she shouldn’t have gone to class today. She knows that she should have gone straight to the campus police station and then come back home. She also knows that, since that’s what she promised she would do - and that was the only reason her roommates agreed to let her go by herself - that she should have done it. And she would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for Twitter.</p><p class="p1">She had been heading to the library after Professor Stein’s lecture when she got a text from Felicity that simply read <em>Turn around</em>.</p><p class="p1">Felicity doesn’t get angry very often, so when she strode up to her in the library, two pink spots on her cheeks, Iris had relented. She’d marched her home and made her change into her sweats, and since she has a day off lectures she hasn’t let Iris out of her sight once. Which is why she’s here, curled up on the couch, eating latkes.</p><p class="p1">“Felicity-”</p><p class="p1">“I am not listening to you, West.”</p><p class="p1">“Can I at least get my laptop?”</p><p class="p1">“<em>No</em>,” she says forcefully from the kitchen, where she is no doubt spooning more sour cream into a dish for the latkes. “You may not get your laptop. You may sit there, you may watch the <em>Great British Baking Show</em>, and you may <em>rest</em>. You may <em>rest</em>, because you almost died yesterday. When is your follow-up?”</p><p class="p1">“Couple days,” Iris replies. Felicity comes out of the kitchen and removes her apron, before sitting down next to her on the couch and biting into a latke.</p><p class="p1">“Good. As soon as Dr. Tannhauser clears you, then you can go back to running around trying to prove that one day, we will be able to move faster than the speed of sound. Was Professor Stein okay with you submitting your simulation later?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, he was fine. You know what a grandpa he is. Oh! That reminds me, I think he and his wife are baking me a sponge cake?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, my god, really?” Felicity squeals. “You know, they have an Instagram blog dedicated to their baking? Let me show you…”</p><p class="p1">They are giggling over cakes and cookies - and a particularly adorable photo of Professor Stein proudly displaying his croissants - when the doorbell goes. They frown at each other - Laurel is staying with Tommy tonight, Linda is out at yoga, and Sara has her swimming lesson. Neither of them are expecting anyone who would ring the doorbell. Iris shrinks back slightly. She had been waiting for Thad to turn up all day, the anticipation churning uneasily in her gut. Apparently, he’s here for his quote. All at once, she wants to tell him to leave her the hell alone. “I’ll get it,” Iris says suddenly. “I’ll get rid of them.”</p><p class="p1">Before Felicity can protest, Iris has gotten up and is striding determinedly to the door. She takes a deep breath and opens the door, preparing to tear Thad a new one. Then her eyes widen. “Barry!”</p><p class="p1">Barry smiles at her and her heart melts. Just a bit. A very little bit. He’s holding a huge bouquet of pink and white flowers, and a gift bag with wrapping paper sticking out of it. “Iris, we’re friends again, you know. You have to stop looking so shocked when you see me.”</p><p class="p1">She laughs nervously. “Ha. Right. I just - I wasn’t - I thought you were someone else. Come in.”</p><p class="p1">She opens the door wider to let him in, suddenly feeling self-conscious in her navy tracksuit bottoms and jersey with the water cartoon printed on the front. “What are you doing here?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, my friend almost died yesterday,” he says mildly, following her into the living room, “and I wanted to come visit her.”</p><p class="p1">“Barry, you saved <em>my</em> life, not the other way around. I should be thanking you.”</p><p class="p1">“You did thank me,” he points out. “This is me visiting. Hey, Felicity.”</p><p class="p1">“Hey, chicken legs,” she says fondly and he rolls his eyes, setting the flowers and gift down. “You know, I win all those track meets.”</p><p class="p1">“Yes. On your adorable chicken legs.”</p><p class="p1">“Whatever. Uh,” he says to Iris, handing her the flowers, “these are for you.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, wow, Barry these are…wait, are these camellias? Like from my-”</p><p class="p1">“Dad’s garden,” he finishes. “Yeah.”</p><p class="p1">She bites her lip. “You remembered.”</p><p class="p1">He smiles at her again, and she feels a little glow in her chest. Barry has always had a really beautiful smile - it makes his eyes crinkle and highlights his cheekbones and brings out these dimples that she’s sure he still doesn’t know are completely disarming, and his eyes seem to get even brighter. “Of course I did. Cisco and Ronnie helped me - they say hi, by the way.”</p><p class="p1">Iris has her nose buried deep in the flowers, eyes closed, and then smiles again. When she glances at Felicity, she sees that her friend is wearing an expression of absolute delight. “Felicity-“</p><p class="p1">“Is going to cut <em>these</em> and put them in water,” she says smoothly, taking the flowers from her friend. “I’m just gonna find a vase.” Iris frowns.</p><p class="p1">“Do we even have vases?”</p><p class="p1">“Laurel’s a WASP, I’m sure she has one lying around here somewhere.” She grins at them both. “See you!”</p><p class="p1">Barry gives her a half-wave, and Iris eyes the gift bag. He chuckles lightly. “Iris, would you like to open the gift?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes, please,” she says, making grabby hands at the bag. He rolls his eyes and hands it to her, shaking his head at her giddiness. The smell hits her first, and she lifts out a brown paper bag that looks incredibly familiar. “Are these-”</p><p class="p1">“Brownies from Jitters? Eddie told me I could only give them to you if I made you promise to stay home. Because apparently some of us don’t realise when you almost die, you have to stay in bed.”</p><p class="p1">Iris is already eating the brownie and frowns at him. “I’m fine, Barry,” she says, mouth full, and Barry just laughs at her.</p><p class="p1">“Whatever. Open the other one.”</p><p class="p1">The other one is some really fancy hot chocolate that she’s never seen before, but she knows from their childhood that Barry loves the stuff. It looks expensive and has seven different flavours, including…”Pumpkin spice?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I was curious.” She pushes her glasses up her nose.</p><p class="p1">“Barry, you didn’t have to do all this…”</p><p class="p1">“Iris, come on, it’s not a big deal,” he shrugs easily. He glances down at his shoes. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”</p><p class="p1">Iris nods, then steps forward hesitantly, her arms out, and hugs him. Barry’s arms close around her back just as she wraps her arms around his middle, aware that this is the most platonic way she’s touched him since they were teenagers. He’s just so <em>solid</em> now, in a way that he hadn’t been years ago. She’d hugged Barry all the time, obviously, but he’d absolutely had the body of a boy then. Now, she’s very aware that she has her hands on a man. She had been aware of that during the sex, but she was drunk and stupid and she hadn’t put together that she’d been with <em>Barry</em>, the sweet boy who walked her to school everyday. He still has his fresh, clean, Barry smell, but now its mixed with cedar wood soap and some sort of men’s fragrance. His limbs are longer and harder, and then there’s his height. He outgrew her in middle school so by the time they were friends again he was already half a head taller than her; now he’s even taller than that.</p><p class="p1">She had missed this.</p><p class="p1">They probably would have stayed there for longer, had Felicity not cleared her throat right then. They spring apart to see her smiling with a huge purple vase bearing the pink and white camellias that he brought. “Oh, don’t mind me,” she says pleasantly, setting the flowers on the table.Iris notices vaguely that Felicity has changed her clothes. “Thanks for saving this one, Barry. We like having her around.”</p><p class="p1">“All in a day’s work,” he shrugs lightly. “Do we know who started it?” Iris rolls her eyes.</p><p class="p1">“The first-year engineers.”</p><p class="p1">“Wait, what?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” Iris sighs. “They have this prank that they pull, every year. Last year they set a ferret loose during a basketball game. The year before that, they hacked into the physics supply chain and replaced all the formaldehyde orders with tubs of vanilla ice cream.”</p><p class="p1">“Terrorists,” Felicity mutters. “This year, someone tried to hot-wire a toaster so that when you put the toast in, it cut out all the electrics. But then it exploded and caught fire.”</p><p class="p1">“Seriously?” Barry snorted. “Have they figured out who exactly did it?”</p><p class="p1">“Not yet, but I think they’re working on a confession,” Iris yawns. “Whatever. At least my gravestone won’t read “Iris West, Killed by Rogue Toaster”.”</p><p class="p1">“I’ll say,” Felicity adds. Then she tips her head. “Actually, Barry, could you do me a favour?”</p><p class="p1">“As long as it doesn’t involve fixing that deathtrap you call a car, sure.”</p><p class="p1">“Bonnie,” she says, raising her chin, “has been very good to me over the years. Her carburettor problem is minor.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s literally <em>anything but minor</em>-“</p><p class="p1">“Whatever. Oliver just called me, his meeting with his supervisor got cancelled, so he can meet for dinner. Could you stay here and make sure that this one doesn’t leave?” Iris rolls her eyes.</p><p class="p1">“Felicity, I am not going to leave!” She points to her feet. “See? Bunny slippers. Barry, you can go, I’m sure you have stuff to do.”</p><p class="p1">“I can say,” he shrugs. “I want a brownie. Oliver’s just going to be grumpy that he can’t see you anyway. It’s fine.” Felicity smiles brightly.</p><p class="p1">“Good. There’s latkes on the counter, make sure she eats them. You can have some, too.” She spins and leaves the room before either of them can complain. A few seconds later, they hear the door slam shut, and Iris reminds herself that she will kill her roommate later. “Look, Barry, you don’t have to stay - they’re overreacting.”</p><p class="p1">“You know, you were much better at letting people look after you when we were kids,” he says lightly. “Its fine. I want to stay, anyway.”</p><p class="p1">“You do? Why?”</p><p class="p1">He shrugs, rolling his shoulders, which Iris has realised he does when he feels awkward. “Well, you know. You and I are friends again. I thought maybe we could hang out and stuff. Find out what we missed in the last five years. If that’s okay?” She takes a deep breath and nods.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. Yeah, it’s okay. Want some cocoa?”</p><p class="p1">“Love some,” he grins, pulling his jacket off and throwing it on the coach. “Can I have the…What? What did I do?”</p><p class="p1">Iris glares at his jacket, and his grin turns sheepish. He goes to put it away. “Sorry, Iris.”</p><p class="p1">“I can’t believe you still do that.”</p><p class="p1">“It wasn’t hurting anyone!”</p><p class="p1">“We have hooks for a <em>reason</em>, Barry.” She starts getting down mugs and spoons down for them, and suddenly she hears Barry curse under his breath. She frowns at him. “What?”</p><p class="p1">“Iris, what happened to your arm?”</p><p class="p1">She looks down. Her sleeves have ridden up to reveal the bandage around her upper arm from when she scratched it. “Oh. From the fire, I scratched it when I was packing up my stuff. Should be healed in a few days.”</p><p class="p1">“<em>I’m fine, Barry</em>,” he says in an annoyingly good impression of her, and she glares at him.</p><p class="p1">“That is a <em>crappy</em> impression of me.”</p><p class="p1">“It was a great impression,” he insists, taking the mugs from her. “Go sit down.”</p><p class="p1">“Barry-”</p><p class="p1">“Go sit down or I’ll tell Felicity you went to the library.” Iris reaches out to take them back but he holds them over her head, and she actually feels the urge to stamp her foot.</p><p class="p1">“Jackass.”</p><p class="p1">“Nerd.”</p><p class="p1">They share a small smile when they realised they’ve slipped into their old insults for each other. “Whatever,” she sniffs. “I want the cinnamon.”</p><p class="p1">Barry settles on the couch with her a few minutes later, setting a tray with the cocoa and the plate of brownies between them. “So, what are we doing? Wait, is this the <em>Great British Baking Show</em>?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, do you like this?”</p><p class="p1">“I <em>love</em> this!” He settles back into the couch with her, shedding his trainers.. “Can we rewind it?”</p><p class="p1">If, at the beginning of college, you’d told Iris that she’d spend one of her evenings watching reality TV with Barry Allen, she would have laughed in your face. Yet, here she is, doing just that. It’s good, that they have the TV between them to talk about, because she senses there’s still some awkwardness between them. She notices he doesn’t talk about high school at all, and she herself is steering clear of all the times she avoided him. But still, its a nice night, and she starts to feel that glowing feeling that she always got when she was around him.</p><p class="p1">They bicker, a little at first, and then settle into the good-natured ribbing of friends, probably only a few shades away from the full-scale roasting that they gave each other when they were teenagers. “I can’t believe you still watch this, Iris,” Barry says, shaking his head as Olivia and Fitz declare their love for each other <em>yet again</em> on TV. “Its awful. I stopped watching in season three.”</p><p class="p1">“I have to finish, okay?” she complains, shoving him with her foot. “I got to four and now I have to see what happens at the end. Besides, you’re the one who’s still watching <em>Supernatural</em>.”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Supernatural </em>is fun!” he says immediately, pointing at her with his brownie. “TV is supposed to be <em>fun</em>. Not everything is <em>Mad Men</em>.”</p><p class="p1">“With the men with the hair from the sixties?” she frowns. “I haven’t seen that.”</p><p class="p1">“We’ll watch it together,” he decides easily. He shakes his head at her. “<em>Men with the hair from the sixties</em>, and I’m the one who has bad taste.”</p><p class="p1">Iris expects the awkwardness, and is pleasantly surprised by their easy cadence. What she isn’t expecting is for Barry to fall asleep. She does hear his comments on the TV become quieter and less frequent, but she figures they’re in the middle of <em>Dance Moms</em> and he wants to pay attention. But then she looks over and he’s asleep, his head turned slightly towards her, arms folded. They had all the lights off and the only light is coming from the moon, which is picking out the shades of brown in his hair.</p><p class="p1">Iris tucks her knees underneath her and watches him, marvelling again at the changes in him. She used to do this a lot, when they were teenagers - they’d be watching TV and Barry would get so engrossed in something she could watch him without him noticing. Then he would catch her watching and grin and say “you’re daydreaming again, Iris,” and then ask her what she was dreaming about as if she wasn’t daydreaming about him. As if she wasn’t always daydreaming about him. She used to wonder what he’d do if, instead of just laughing it off, she reached across and press her mouth against his. Climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him until they were both breathless. Pressed her hand into his chest, right over his heart, as if she could leave a mark there.</p><p class="p1">In the best daydreams, he kissed her back. He pulled her against him and laughed into her mouth and called her an idiot for making him wait this long. Those were the best ones. In the others, when he had spent a day getting flirted with or they’d had a fight, he would look at her with confused, angry eyes, pulling away from her, severing their friendship. It was this thought that always kept her in her daydreams. <em>And</em> what kept her on the other side of the couch, because Iris had a habit of <em>burrowing</em> when she was next to him. She would lean her head on his shoulder and then before she knew it she’d fallen asleep with her legs tucked underneath her, nose buried in his chest, arms around his middle. Then she’d stammer out an apology, flushing at Barry waving it away because of course it hadn’t meant anything to him. They were Barry and Iris. This was what they did.</p><p class="p1">She wonders, not for the first time, what had been going through his mind when he ran into that building. Barry has always been protective of her, but then, they were like that with each other. Sometime after his dad left Iris had sort of started looking after him, in the way that she could, and never really stopped. She held his hand constantly, Joe would always be happy to take him home after elementary school, and she made sure people didn’t talk about him. Barry had been the same, especially when they reconnected in high school. She remembers him insisting that he go in the ambulance when her appendix burst, staying late with her at the library and then walking her home at night, offering an arm for her to loop her own around when they went on trips together. But what had made him run <em>into a burning building</em> for her? Adrenaline? Panic? Frustration at the campus police? All of it, probably.</p><p class="p1">Then, as she watches his chest rise and fall, Iris wonders what he thinks of their hooking up. She has curiously managed to keep the two separate - the fact that Barry had wanted her without wanting her (twice), that she knows that his green eyes darken to grey when he’s turned on, that he’s had his hands all over her. She feels like the Barry and Iris of her teen years are in stasis, frozenlike a fly in amber, and the people that they are now are different. Like they have to connect the two and find a new place for them. Where, though, will her heart land in all of this?</p><p class="p1">Barry could hurt her again. Not on purpose, probably, but he could. She’d said that she wanted to put high school behind her, but the fact that he forgot her brought back the hopeless, helpless anger she always felt when girls flirted with him in front of her. Or all the times after Homecoming when Becky Cooper would give her a smug smile as she held Barry’s hand as they walked from class to class together.</p><p class="p1">Iris sighs, pushing a hand through her hair. No point in thinking like that. They are friends again. It would be good enough, for now. And besides, she can’t help but think he still needs someone to look after him. How he’d talked about his breakup with Patty, how lonely and beretft he looked, made her gut twist. She’s never been able to stand Barry in pain; its like someone is tearing her own heart in two. She reaches for him, shaking his shoulder lightly. “Barry?” she whispers. “Bar?”</p><p class="p1">He snorts awake, his eyes unfocused. “Iris?” he mutters, his voice hoarse from sleep. “Did I…”</p><p class="p1">“Conked out about twenty minutes ago.” He scrubs a hand over his face and through his hair.</p><p class="p1">“Sorry, Iris. I guess I didn’t realise how tired I was.”</p><p class="p1">“Its okay.” She twists her fingers. “It was nice having you here.”</p><p class="p1">“It was nice being here,” he grins. Then he stands, stretching out his long body, and looking around for his jacket. “I better go, though. I have an early day tomorrow.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, of course.” She walks him to the door, wrapping her arms around herself. “And - I know I’ve said it before, but thank you for-”</p><p class="p1">“Quit thanking me, Iris,” he interrupts, laughing. “You would have done the same for me.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, yeah. But still.”</p><p class="p1">He grins down at her, then pulls her into a hug. “Goodnight, Iris.”</p><p class="p1">“Night, Barry.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You need a date,” Oliver says. Barry stares.</p><p class="p1">“A date?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, a girlfriend, actually, but it’ll probably have to be a date.”</p><p class="p1">Barry put down his weights. “Why do I need a date?”</p><p class="p1">Oliver gets off the bench and faces him, reaching for a towel. Its a few days after they got the invitation, and when Cisco mentioned it, Oliver told them he’d be there with Thea, Laurel and Tommy. “Barry, I’ve been to these parties before. They’re all insanely traditional and all about appearances. You show up with someone, someone serious, it looks like you’re thinking of your future. Like you’re someone who’s above the childishness of college hookups.”</p><p class="p1">“But we’re not above the childishness of college,” Cisco points out from the rowing machine. “We’re doing laser tag tomorrow and Barry’s on my team.”</p><p class="p1">Oliver shakes his head. “Look, I’ve been in this world, guys. They’re all full of shit, but you have to play by the rules.”</p><p class="p1">Barry balances one of the weights on his knee. He’s always done the gym with Oliver, but Cisco has been newly roped into it. They’d be able to avoid him, but honestly, Oliver scares both of them.They meet on a Thursday night near midnight, when everyone is out at parties and the gym is quiet. Right now its just them in their corner, and some other guys at the other end of the room on the mats. “I don’t know, man, it kind of seems…performative?”</p><p class="p1">“You mean you have to perform for a bunch of old white guys in order to secure opportunities?” he laughs. “Its just for one night, and its only to make sure people take you seriously. And…you know.”</p><p class="p1">Cisco starts up at the rowing machine again. Barry frowns. “What do I know?”</p><p class="p1">“Ah…Well, Eddie and Thad are going. They always do, their family is a donor and really close with Morgan Edge. So everyone’s going to be talking about…”</p><p class="p1">“Me getting dumped by Patty for him,” Barry finishes glumly. “Right.” This feels like another world, like one he’ll never understand or truly be part of. He’d grown up with a mom who was a cop. He had no idea about fancy parties and blue blood families and all this complicated networking. Suddenly, the party doesn’t seem so appealing. Oliver rubs his chin.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. I mean, I wish it could be different, but…”</p><p class="p1">“Hey, why don’t you take Iris?” Cisco suggests, a shade too innocently. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to go with you.”</p><p class="p1">Oliver frowns. “Why would Iris be happy to go with him?”</p><p class="p1">“Dude, they’re secret best friends,” Cisco replies. “Don’t you read the house group chat?”</p><p class="p1">“Of course not.” But Oliver is frowning at Barry now in a way that makes him feel uneasy. “Best friends? <em>The</em> best friend?”</p><p class="p1">“<em>The</em> best friend?” Cisco repeats, walking over to them. “What does that mean? What are you talking about?” And then all at once, Barry remembers a drunken night doing shots with Oliver and Tommy, where he told Oliver about a best friend that he used to have. “Oliver-”</p><p class="p1">“Barry told me that his best friend stood him up at Homecoming when he was sixteen and then never spoke to him again,” Oliver says slowly. “That was Iris?”</p><p class="p1">“Iris stood you up at Homecoming?” Cisco splutters, and Barry lets out a groan. This is what he gets for partying with Oliver.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” he says quietly. He hasn’t actually admitted it to anyone, not even to his mother, who still thinks that they had a fight that they never got over. Well, except for Oliver and Tommy. He still remembers that night. It had been about six months after he started dating Patty, and the three of them were talking about girls that they let get away while doing shots in the koitchen. Oliver kept saying he should have been nicer to Laurel, and Tommy was getting a little irate because - hello - Laurel was his girlfriend now, so Barry broke the tension (stupidly, it had been so stupid) by mentioning Iris. How he asked her to Homecoming after his calculus test, because really there was no one he’d rather go with than his best friend. How he’d been excited for weeks for it, and not even the fight with Tony the day of Homecoming could dampen his mood. Then how he’d waited outside the dance for her for an hour before realising she wasn’t coming, and then on Monday, her avoiding him completely. He figures she found out he spent what remained of the dance with Becky Cooper, but he never found out why she stood him up in the first place.</p><p class="p1">Iris wasn’t a one that got away, and she wasn’t a girlfriend. But it still hurt so much that he wouldn’t even explain to his mother what happened. Because honestly? He didn’t even really know himself. He takes a deep breath.</p><p class="p1">“Look, it was a long time ago,” he shrugs. “We were just going to go as best friends, so it wasn’t a big deal. She just changed her mind, I guess. But we’re friends again now, and I’m over it.”</p><p class="p1">“I’ll say,” Cisco mutters. “Jeez, Barry, that’s…Are you okay?”</p><p class="p1">“Are you really over it?” Oliver wants to know. Barry frowns.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. I mean, I think so. Why wouldn’t I be? We hung out the other day, and it was fine. And, you know, I don’t really have a best friend like you guys do. Iris was mine. She was there when my dad left, and her parents basically raised me when my mom was working. I mean, her dad taught me how to shave,” he laughs sadly. “And…there’s some stuff that she went through, too, stuff I should have been there for, so I kind of have to make it up to her. All that other stuff doesn’t matter.”</p><p class="p1">“Well.” Oliver clear his throat, and Barry could swear he can hear his voice crack a bit. He glances at Cisco, and he’s wiping discreetly at his eyes. “Well,” Oliver says again. “If that’s - I mean, of course, everyone loves Iris, she’s great. And she’s kind of perfect, actually, she’s a genius and she’s up for that whole Harrison Wells thing. Do you think she’d be up for it? She’d have to be your girlfriend from now until then.”</p><p class="p1">“Wait, what? Its just for the party.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, Thad and Patty are going to be there. If you turn up with a girlfriend that you’ve had for about five minutes, they’re going to know its fake.”</p><p class="p1">Barry thunks his head against the wall. “So I have to convince Iris to be in a fake relationship with me until Christmas to make sure people don’t think I’m just a collegiate idiot who’s too stupid to realise that some guy was moving on his girlfriend?” Its crazy. Iris would never agree to it. They have barely rekindled their friendship. She’s going to think he’s crazy for asking.</p><p class="p1">Isn’t she?</p><p class="p1">“Basically,” Oliver nods.</p><p class="p1">“Pretty much,” Cisco agrees.</p><p class="p1">“Great (!)”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Iris knew that her mother wouldn’t take her word for it. She doesn’t blame her, because no matter how much Iris tries to downplay it, she <em>had</em> almost died, and even a parent without Francine’s history with her daughter would be worried. But she’s on a cruise, and she’s spreading her husband’s ashes, so her options for mothering are severely limited. So Iris shouldn’t be surprised when she sees her cousin hanging out outside Central City Presbyterian after she’s done with her appointment. Dr. Tannhauser - who insisted that any friend of Caitlin’s call her Carla - explained that she was fine. She should get the flu shot early and make sure that she wraps up because she may be more susceptible to a chest cold, but she has nothing to worry about.</p><p class="p1">“And say hello to your mother for me,” she finishes. She hesitates. “I remember Francine, and when it happened…well, we were all on her side. I was so glad, when she got her license back.”</p><p class="p1">She’d squeezed Iris’ hand and then left, and Iris walked outside. She had been so engrossed that she hadn’t noticed Wally until he was right in front of her. “Wally!” she squealed, hugging him.</p><p class="p1">“Oh, she notices,” he laughs into her hair. “Good to see you, cuz. We were all really worried.” Iris scoffs.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, right.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris…”</p><p class="p1">“Fine, whatever, I’ll be nice,” she says. “My mom sent you, didn’t she?”</p><p class="p1">“Aunt Francine said you weren’t listening to your friends when they said you should stay home. And Linda called me-”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Linda</em> called you? Since when do you two talk?”</p><p class="p1">“Since my cousin decides to do her best impression of fish fricassee.”</p><p class="p1">Iris hits him in the shoulder. Wally is her favourite cousin, and has been since they were kids. When her dad died and she had to stay with his family, he was the only one who didn’t treat her like a pariah. His mother had mostly ignored her - she did think Francine killed her brother, after all - and his father never knew that to think. Wally’s siblings steered clear from her. Living with them had been among the worst years of her life. So when her mother was cleared of the murder, Iris gave them the same energy. Wally and Francine have long since given up trying to make Iris make nice with them, just glad that she didn’t refuse to be in the same room as them anymore.</p><p class="p1">They walk to Jitters and sit, ordering coffee. Wally is a medical student in his final year before med school, so Iris knows he had to go out of his way to be here, especially since he goes to college in Keystone. She sees her dad in him, in his eyes and in his ears (“All the men on our side,” her father had sighed once, “look like versions of Dumbo.”) and it makes her feel at home. He eyes her. “How’re you doing?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m <em>fine</em>. Just tired. I actually just had my checkup.”</p><p class="p1">“Any coughing fits? Chest pain? Nausea?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh my god, all you doctors are so annoying,” she mutters. “No, none of that. Anyway, how are you?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m peachy. Don’t change the subject.” He leans forward, studying her. “I heard Barry Allen saved your life.” She almost drops the sugar.</p><p class="p1">“Um. Yeah.”</p><p class="p1">“Does he know I owe him a smack in the mouth?” Iris sighs.</p><p class="p1">“Wally, we’re friends now.”</p><p class="p1">“Funny, I don’t usually make friends with girls who lead me on and then change their mind at the last minute,” he says darkly. “Maybe the rules are different for the Barry Allens of the world. Glad to know he grew out of the whole coward thing.”</p><p class="p1">“Wallace,” she warns. “Don’t talk about him like that. And since when did you think he was a coward?”</p><p class="p1">But he just waves this away. “Whatever. If I see him, I’m going to hit him.”</p><p class="p1">“You’re not going to see him, and you’re not going to hit him. What kind of wannabe doctor gets into fights?”</p><p class="p1">“I can reset his nose after I break it.”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Wallace</em>.”</p><p class="p1">“Kidding! Mostly.” He pauses, then grabs her hand. “I miss you. We haven’t seen you since Easter.”</p><p class="p1">“I saw <em>you</em> in July,” she says firmly. “I don’t need to see anyone else.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris. Come on, the anniversary is in a couple months - I was thinking we could all go together.”</p><p class="p1">“You were? Thats nice.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris.”</p><p class="p1">“Wally.”</p><p class="p1">“Please?”</p><p class="p1">“Four years of treating me like a freak, and suddenly the extended West family wants to hold hands at my dad’s grave?” Iris laughs bitterly. “No, thank you. I’ll take my freak of nature self down there alone. Do they want the day, or the day after?”</p><p class="p1">“You’re his kid,” he says sadly, and Iris hates that, but its not a sadness of her making. “You should get the day.”</p><p class="p1">“Fine. I’ll clear out so they can have the day after.”</p><p class="p1">Iris concentrates very hard on her panini and sees Wally give up. Her mother must have asked him to do this too, she realises, knowing that he’s the only one who could get through to her on this. But she isn’t budging.</p><p class="p1">“Anyway,” he says, shaking her head and grinning. He pulls out his phone. “I have to call you on FaceTime to prove that we saw each other, so…Hey, aunt Francine!”</p><p class="p1">“Hey, you two,” she smiles. Her mother is clearly on a boat, as she can see sparkling blue sea and the railings of a deck. “How are you?”</p><p class="p1">“We’re good, mom,” Iris laughs. “Wally did a good job, I’m still in one piece. Will you both leave me alone now?”</p><p class="p1">“Actually, I need the bathroom, so yeah, gonna leave you alone,” Wally yawns, getting up and heading off. Iris turns the phone to face her.</p><p class="p1">“Mom, you better be getting a tan.”</p><p class="p1">“I am. Baby, we need to do this next year, its so much fun! Someone taught me how to play the harmonica, and I even ran into someone who’s in my online book club!”</p><p class="p1">Iris grins. “I’m really glad you’re happy, mom.”</p><p class="p1">“Me too. Oh! And I told that boy to text you-”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Mama</em>…” Iris sighs, but her mother insists.</p><p class="p1">“Now, Iris, he’s very sweet, and he thinks you’re very pretty, so-”</p><p class="p1">“I have a boyfriend,” she says quickly. At her mother’s silence, she says, “I have a boy that I’m dating. I’m dating someone.”</p><p class="p1">“You do?” she says incredulously. Iris nods, warming to her lie and feeling a kernel of guilt plant itself right in her heart.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. I didn’t tell you because it’s - new, and, I didn’t want to put pressure on it.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris, that’s great! I can’t wait to meet him, you make sure I meet him when I come see you, okay?”</p><p class="p1">“I - I will,” she says weakly, and her mother beams and she feels the kernel of guilt blossom into a whole damn tree.</p><p class="p1">“Wonderful! Okay, I have a knitting class, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you!”</p><p class="p1">“Love you too, mom.”</p><p class="p1">When Wally comes back, and sees her staring morosely at her food, he frowns at her. “Everything cool?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, fine.” She just has to conjure up a boyfriend from somewhere, that’s all. “Peachy.”</p><p class="p1">Wally leaves soon after, though not before he insists on talking to Caitlin on the phone about her medical intake. He has two classes that day and can’t really miss them, so she hugs him extra tight when they’re at the train station. “Call me when you get back home,” she says, her throat suddenly tight. They visit each other as often as they can, but she’s always left with the feeling that, if it weren’t for her dads death, she’d have more people in her corner.</p><p class="p1">“Take care of yourself,” he replies. He squeezes her once more and then disappears onto the train. Iris wipes at her eyes and gets on with the rest of her day. They pass in a blur of research and lectures - and avoiding the tweets in that ridiculous hashtag, which is full of people calling Barry weak for not fighting Thad <em>or</em> congratulating him for getting such a hot rebound - and Iris tries her best to bury herself in it. Its third year, and thankfully she declared her major in freshman year, but she wants to start thinking about forensics. She could get a masters, or she could try to get some experience over the summer. Nora has spoken to her about it, has promised her a stint anytime she wants at CCPD, shadowing one of their CSIs. She’s always turned it down, monthly calls from Nora Allen is all she’s ever allowed herself when it came to Barry, and even that felt like too much. Now that she and Barry are friends again, maybe she can start thinking about it.</p><p class="p1">Iris is in the Stella Building when Barry tracks her down. They’ve seen each other in passing, smiling and waving hello, though nothing more as they’ve been busy. They text each other on occasion as well, and Felicity has put them bothin a group chat for Cisco’s birthday present. Iris is working on her simulation again in the peace and quiet of one of the science rooms. Usually she’d be fighting tooth and nail to get space, but since the incident Professor Stein lobbied for her and Hartley to be assigned their own space. Nobody knows she’s here except Linda, so he must have called her first.</p><p class="p1">“Barry,” she smiles. She steps out from behind the long lab table and peers at him. He looks a little apprehensive, and he keeps watching her carefully. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. How are you?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m okay,” she laughs. “Are you?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, why?”</p><p class="p1">“Because you keep looking at me like I’m going to bite you.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh. Ha. Right.” He rubs the back of his head, his eyes floating up to her face and flicking away again. “Sorry, I just - I need to ask you something, and it’s a little weird.”</p><p class="p1">“Weird?” she frowns, tapping at her laptop. She picks up her notebook. “Weird how?”</p><p class="p1">“I need you to…I need you to be my girlfriend.”</p><p class="p1">Iris drops her notebook. She can hear her blood rushing in her ears, feel her heart threatening to burst from her chest. She blinks stupidly at him. “You want me to - wait, <em>what</em>?”</p><p class="p1">“Be my girlfriend,” he repeats, half-desperate and half-hopeful. “Until Christmas.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m...Barry, I don’t-”</p><p class="p1">“There’s this party,” he says quickly, “at Christmas, with all these journalists from The Daily Planet and CatCo and Central City Picture News, basically all the media companies owned by Morgan Edge, and we’re all invited, and its a really great opportunity for me to meet people, I wanted to maybe get an internship at CCPN next year, and they’re even-”</p><p class="p1">“Bar - Barry,” she interrupts. “Breathe. Before you pass out.”</p><p class="p1">“R-Right,” he stutters. He takes a deep breath. “So, um, yeah, Clark Kent is going to be there, and all these other people. But I talked to Oliver - the Queens are going, too - and the whole Thawne family will be there because they’re all rich. And - And I really don’t want to be seen as the pathetic idiot who got dumped on TV, so I figured, maybe, if you were there, if people thought we’d been dating for a while, people would kind of remember the part where I saved a person from a burning building and not the part where I made this grand gesture for my girlfriend and she told me she wasn’t in love with me anymore?”</p><p class="p1">Iris just blinks at him again. “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend until Christmas so people don’t remember that Patty broke up with you for Thad?”</p><p class="p1">Barry flinches and Iris thinks that maybe it’s at her words, but then she sees realisation dawn on his face. “Uh. Um. Sorry. This - this was a terrible idea, Iris, God - I’m really sorry.”</p><p class="p1">“Wait, Barry-”</p><p class="p1">“Sorry, I’ll just - I’ll talk-”</p><p class="p1">Barry literally turns around and bolts, leaving Iris staring after him in shock and confusion. She frowns down at the table, then at the door Barry just vacated, its swinging the only proof of what had just happened. Which she <em>thinks</em> is that Barry Allen just asked her to be his girlfriend, changed his mind, and then ran off in the middle of a sentence.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A few days later, Iris still can’t work out what to do. She hasn’t called Barry; she doesn’t know what to say to him, but its in all her thoughts, the idea of being his fake girlfriend. Linda, for her part, is in two minds about it.</p><p class="p1">“I mean, Iris, you were <em>really</em> in love with him,” she points out. She dips a nacho into the cheese.They have a weekly lunch date at this Mexican place on campus, and this is where Iris dropped this latest bombshell. “You don’t think this could get complicated?”</p><p class="p1">“Linda, it’s not like I want you to convince me - he changed his mind and ran. Like, <em>ran</em>. I can see how he wins all those track meets.” She shakes her head. “I don’t even - I mean, I want to help him, but…yeah, it could?”</p><p class="p1">“Why do you want to?”</p><p class="p1">“He just seemed so…I don’t know, desperate. How much of a big deal is this party?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, Iris,” Linda breathes, “it’s a <em>big</em> deal. It’s usually held in Metropolis or Gotham. Clark Kent is going to be there, and Barry-“</p><p class="p1">“Has loved Clark Kent since he was fourteen,” Iris finishes. She frowns.</p><p class="p1">“How did…Oh. Best friends.”</p><p class="p1">Iris wrinkles her nose. She knows how much Barry loves Clark Kent. He must have been so worried to ask that of her, especially since they basically just became friends again. “And - and people will really think all that stuff about him? That he’s pathetic?”</p><p class="p1">“Not everyone,” Linda insists. “But, you know, Patty and Thad are going, and all the Thawnes, so…”</p><p class="p1">Iris sighs, her head in her hands. Linda appraises her. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you?”</p><p class="p1">“He saved my life, Linda,” Iris grumbles. “This doesn’t even sound that difficult, everyone thinks we’re dating anyway.”</p><p class="p1">“True. And you can kill two birds with one stone.”</p><p class="p1">“How do you mean?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, didn’t you tell your mom you had a boyfriend?”</p><p class="p1">Iris blinks. “Wait. You think Barry will pretend to be my boyfriend?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, he already will be,” she points out. “And he’s just meeting your mom. You have to get a dress, and heels, and talk to people like Lois Lane.” She pauses. “Just…promise me something.”</p><p class="p1">“What?”</p><p class="p1">“Iris, you know I love you. And I don’t want you to get hurt. So if you do this, you have to remember - no matter how much it hurts - that this isn’t real.” But Iris smiles blandly.</p><p class="p1">“Well, Linda, its never been real. If I do decide to do this, I think I’ll be fine.” And Linda reaches across and squeezes her hand tightly, her eyes full of warmth. When she leaves to go to her spin class, and Iris heads home, those words are still rattling around her head. She thinks of what it will mean for them, if she agrees. They’ll have to keep this up for weeks, and make it look natural. They’ll have to touch each other, and kiss each other, and convince all their friends. His colleagues, her mother. And when they stop? What will be left of them?</p><p class="p1">So she’s still in two minds about it. Until she walks past The Dirty Donut.</p><p class="p1">At first, she’s confused. The whole place is decorated with love hearts and streamers, pink and purple and white. The donuts were all in the shape of hearts, and banners were up saying <em>Happy Sweethearts Day at the Dirty Donut</em>! Which is confusing, because its the middle of September, and Sweethearts Day is in October. Then she sees Barry.</p><p class="p1">He’s in a booth by the window, a book in his hand, and a single donut and cup of coffee on the table. He’s not reading it, though - his eyes aren’t moving across the page, and he keeps glancing up at something across the room. When she gets closer, she sees that its someones. <em>Two</em> someones, to be exact. Patty and Thad are seated at the counter, eating donuts and watching something on the university TV. She doesn’t think they know Barry’s there, but she can’t be certain they’d care even if they did. Iris looks back at Barry, who upon closer inspection looks utterly miserable. She raises her eyes to the sky.</p><p class="p1">“You are an idiot, Iris West,” she mutters, even as she pulls out lipstick, and fixes her hair, and straightens her clothes. “A world class idiot.”</p><p class="p1">She strides up to the entrance, where a cheerful waitress is waiting at the entrance. “Excuse me,” Iris says politely. “Whats with all the hearts?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, well, Sweethearts Day is during the break this year,” she explains. “So we thought we’d have a CCU exclusive!”</p><p class="p1">“Right.”</p><p class="p1">“Would you like a booth?”</p><p class="p1">“Actually, my…date, is here. Tall guy, green eyes, reading a book?” Her eyes widen.</p><p class="p1">“Oh! You’re-”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, the girl from the fire.”</p><p class="p1">The waitress leads her up to Barry, who is so surprised to see her that he nearly drops the book in his coffee. “I-Iris,” he croaks. She looks at the waitress.</p><p class="p1">“I think we’ve got it from here.” Iris slips into the booth across from him, and Barry takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.</p><p class="p1">“Look, Iris, I’m so sorry I asked - that, it was so stupid, and I would never-”</p><p class="p1">“I’ll do it.”</p><p class="p1">“What?”</p><p class="p1">“I’ll…be your fake girlfriend,” she says. She swallows. “But only if you agree to something for me.”</p><p class="p1">“Anything,” he says immediately. He leans forward, expression concerned. “What is it, Iris?”</p><p class="p1">“My mom. I - ever since my dad died, she’s been trying to make sure I’m not…That I’m “normal”. And part of that includes having a boyfriend in college.” She looks down at her hands. “After my dad died I got a little too good at being alone, and she worries. So I kind of told her that I had one. And I hoped that would be you? Just to take the heat off, for a while?”</p><p class="p1">Barry frowns. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Iris. You’re perfect. You know that, right?”</p><p class="p1">She gives him a small smile. “I know. So, deal?”</p><p class="p1">“Deal,” he breaths, relieved. He grins at her, his eyes crinkling, and she nods.</p><p class="p1">“So, I think we should have some ground rules. Number one: we each tell one person.”</p><p class="p1">“Good,” he grins sheepishly. “I already told Oliver and Cisco, so.”</p><p class="p1">“And I already told Linda,” she admits. “Um, also, we should tell each other when we feel uncomfortable. And we should be able to back out, if we want.”</p><p class="p1">Barry nods slowly. “I have one.”</p><p class="p1">“Which is?”</p><p class="p1">“I want us to stay friends,” he says quietly. “If this gets weird, we can call it off and stay friends. Thats the most important thing to me, Iris.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” she says quietly. She squirms a bit. “And, um, PDA is…fine with me, but only when we’re trying to sell it. So we should probably kiss and hold hands and stuff when we’re in public. I guess that’s not a big deal.” He nods.</p><p class="p1">“Right.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Barry disagrees. Its a very big deal.</p><p class="p1">He’s still reeling from Iris agreeing to this, but grateful. And all her conditions sound reasonable, all things he would have proposed. But then she mentioned kissing and - well. He knows that, technically, they’ve kissed before, but that was for sex. There’s a difference between kissing Iris and Kissing Iris.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2">
  <strong>July, three months before Homecoming</strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry and Iris didn’t usually go to these kinds of parties together, they were always busy doing something else. But Ellie Graydon’s parents were out and it was summer and they wanted to blow off some steam. Ellie was one of those girls that everyone liked, and she was Iris’ science partner and on the athletics team with Barry, so they both got to go.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry thought the party was okay. It was in the basement with some Top 40 music and decent snacks (no alcohol because hello? Cop mom) and some board games. Very chill. Barry had gotten into another fight with Tony Woodward - this time at the arcade, where he was playing and Iris was reading a book outside - and he was mostly just looking to have fun with his friends. Plus Iris had spent ages getting ready, and she kept asking if he liked her outfit and her hair. He didn’t see what the big deal was since Iris looked pretty in basically everything, but whatever. Girls, right?</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>So they were at the party, and then someone got the idea to play spin the bottle. And then when Iris had her turn to spin, it spun. And spun. And spun. Until it landed on him. Everyone went silent, and Iris looked like she’d been dunked in cold water. Angela from homeroom rolled her eyes.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris has to kiss her boyfriend, that’s no fun.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“He’s not my boyfriend, Angie,” Iris snapped, and Barry tried not to be stung by that, because they were best friends, but she didn’t have to say it like that. Becky Cooper, sipping her drink, spoke up.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“You don’t have to do it if you’re scared, Iris,” she said innocently, and Iris did that steely thing with her eyes again, and Barry got the feeling they were having a conversation </em>about<em> him </em>without<em> him. Without a word, Iris got up and sat in front of Barry, her eyes determined behind her glasses, because as quiet as Iris was she had an </em>insane<em> competitive streak and this was likely pushing all her buttons. Ellie got out a stopwatch.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You know the rules,” she said delightedly. “Three seconds.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris looked at him. “Um. You should p-probably get closer.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry moved forward obediently, sitting on his haunches. His heart was beating awfully fast, but he didn’t know why. He and Iris did everything together. Why should kissing be any different? But he couldn’t make his palms stop sweating. “You go left, I go right?” he suggested. Iris shook her head.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No, we both go right.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“‘Kay,” he said, mouth suddenly dry. He licked his lips and then leaned forward, watching as Iris did the same. At the very last minute, he remembered to close his eyes, and then her lips were on his.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Oh. This was nice. Iris’ lips were soft and tasted vaguely like raspberries from her lipgloss. She brought a hand to rest on his chest to steady herself, her palm warm on him through his shirt, and one of her thumbs had slipped through the gap in the buttons so she was touching his skin.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“One…two…three…”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Barry tilted his head a bit more, brought one hand up to caress her face and skim her jaw with his knuckles. His body seemed to have a mind of its own, which was good, because all he coud concentrate on was Iris’ lips on his. Her mouth sort of </em>slid <em>a little on his, and he felt it, deep and hot and writhing, in his belly.</em></p><p class="p1"><em>“…four…five..guys, you can </em>stop<em>…six…Ellie, they’re not stopping…”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>He cupped her jaw with his hand and pressed her closer to him. Her hand was shaking, he realised, and he realised she must be nervous that they were doing this in front of people, so he put his other hand over it to reassure her that this was okay, she was okay, they were best friends, she didn’t have to be nervous. Not with him. He hoped she could feel it.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Seven…should we leave? I don’t know…eight…nine…”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>There was an almighty crash and they sprang apart quickly. Barry stared at her, a little shocked. His heart was going a mile a minute and he had genuinely forgotten anyone else was in that room. His lips were burning and he could feel the flush on his face. Iris wasn’t looking at him, though. She was looking at the source of the crash, which was that Becky seemed to have accidentally knocked the punch bowl over. Ellie sprang up, panicked, and Iris got up. “I’ll help,” she promised, still not looking at Barry.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>He just sat there, licking the taste of Iris off his lips, wondering if kissing your best friend was supposed to feel like a million fireworks going off</em>.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">That wasn’t his first kiss, but when people asked him about it, its the only one he can ever seem to remember. But, yeah, there’s a huge difference between kissing Iris and <em>actually</em> <em>Kissing Iris.</em> Only one of them had him nervous to even speak to Iris after they got up from playing, confused at how a mere kiss had scrambled his brain. None of their kisses during the hookups had been like that. They'd never brought it up again, that kiss; Barry was afraid to hear her say she didn't like it. She'd started dating Brad after that, and then there was never really a time to slip it in.</p><p class="p1">He wonders briefly if - no. Don’t push your luck, Allen.</p><p class="p1">“Barry?” she asks, bringing him back to the present. “I said, what are you reading?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh! <em>A Hundred Million Stars</em>,” he says, showing her the spine. His father had started reading it to him when he was small, reading it every year until he could read it himself. It was a short story, about a boy who finds a magical star, and feels hope and love and belief for the first time, and waits for his entire life for it to come back to him. This particular copy is special, as it’s signed with a personal inscription by the author. Iris had won a competition to get it signed from the author, and it’s one of his most treasured possessions. He had dug it out the other day, after ignoring it for five years because the book reminded him of her, of their lost friendship. But after Patty reminded him of it, he had gotten his mother to send it to him, heart melting slightly at the photo booth pictures of him and Iris. They had gone to the zoo in Keystone that day, so all of the pictures were of them wearing animal heads (him an elephant, her a panda), and it’s still one of the best memories he has. Which is why he’d worked so hard to forget it.  Iris studies the book, her expression carefully neutral for a second, and then smiles.</p><p class="p1">“I remember how much you love that book. Do you still read it every year?”</p><p class="p1">“I haven’t read it for a while, actually,” he admits. “Thought I’d read it again.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah? Why now?”</p><p class="p1">
  <em>And the old man said, ‘Look up, dear child, and be brave, and be wild, for this is no ordinary night. A hundred million stars, from Jupiter to Mars, but only one that burns endlessly, beautifully bright.’ </em>
</p><p class="p1">He smiles at her.</p><p class="p1">“No reason.”</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So this got to be so long that if I added anymore it would just bloat, but don't worry, your questions will be answered in coming chapters!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. September - Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Barry and Iris navigate their new agreement.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so so SO sorry about how late this is, guys. I had a lot of life stuff to deal with, and this chapter is over 30K and could have been longer but it was just getting bloated and would have been really clunky. I also had to rethink the structure of the story since its so much more complicated (and emotional LOL) because I kept changing my mind and will likely change it in the future haha.</p><p>I hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <em> <strong>'What do I know of the stars,' said the boy. 'How do I know which is true?'</strong> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <b> <em>And the old man said, 'Just wait, dear boy, for it is on its way home to you.' - A Hundred Million Stars, J. Garrick</em> </b>
</p><p class="p1">
  <b>September, 1 year before Homecoming</b>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris was stuck.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>She had been trying to talk herself out of talking to him for five minutes. Whenever she successfully managed it, she looked at him, and then all her resolve melted. He had been sitting there, looking sad and dejected, for about twenty minutes. She wanted to know what he was thinking - which wasn’t new, she always wanted to know what Barry Allen was thinking, but now she even felt brave enough to ask him. She put her hand on the doorknob, then hesitated. What if he didn’t remember her? She might actually die of embarrassment. But wait, no, of course Barry remembered her. They still nodded at each other in corridors. When he had won the hundred-metre sprint last summer, he waved at her when she was cheering in the bleachers. The mathletes final was in the gymnasium a few weeks ago and she was surprised to see Barry in the front row with a few of his friends (who he’d probably forced to sit there), giving her an encouraging smile and thumbs up when it was her turn to talk. She’d almost thrown a really basic question about the Fibonacci sequence because Barry Allen had </em>looked<em> at her. Maybe this was a bad idea.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris looked around. Mrs. Forbes, the Latin teacher, was ambling down the corridor, jewellery swaying from side to side as she moved. If she didn’t move now, she’d be roped into joining the Latin club, which would entail drinking sugar-free juice and smiling through a lot of videos about ancient Roman gardens. Iris took a deep breath and opened the door. Barry’s head snapped up and he focused on her, frowning slightly before his face cleared. “Iris?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She swallowed. They hadn’t spoken in almost four years, and she’d forgotten what her name in his mouth did to her heart. “Hi, Barry. Are you okay?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really. I failed the calculus test.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“It was a hard test,” she said. She hesitated, than sat down in front of him. He eyed her.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I bet you passed.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I - my mom is a surgeon, Barry. I’m just good at math.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah, but this is my third test. If I keep this up I’ll have to take remedial, and that clashes with English Lit. But I have to take at least one advanced math class if I want to get a good scholarship for college.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She worried her lip. “Do you want help?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Help how?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I take this class, too. I could help you with your homework, and stuff. Precalc isn’t that bad, once you get the hang of it. And you kind of got the short straw, with Mr. Henley.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“Oh my god, he’s the </em>worst<em>,” Barry said, sitting up. “I think he hates me.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“He hates everyone, Barry.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “I could - um. If you wanted, we could maybe go through the test together?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry looked at her. The last time they had spoken, really spoken, they were eleven. They were both different people, with different friends and different lives. Theirs had been.a friendship of sticky fingers and cartoons and childish promises to be friends forever. Maybe he wouldn’t want to be like that anymore. Iris took a deep breath and made to stand up. “Or - or not, if-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Wait, Iris,” he said quickly, grabbing her hand. Iris looked down at it and he let go. “That sounds nice, if you don’t mind. I mean, I would appreciate it. But don’t you have chess club today?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Oh. Um, I actually don’t. I got too good for it to be fun anymore.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry grinned suddenly at her and she felt her heart kick up against her chest. “You beat the whole chess club? Really?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She shrugged, smiling. “They’re not as cool as me, duh, Barry.” She took a breath. “So, deal?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Deal,” he said firmly, his grin widening. He stood up, hoisting his bag over his shoulder. “Do you want to go to my place or yours?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yours, of that’s okay? My mom has surgery and my dad has a big party, our kitchen looks like a bomb site.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Cool. Hey, does your dad still make butter pecan cookies for dessert on Tuesdays?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah,” she smiled. “He’s added pecan pie, as well. I can get him to make some for you and your mom, if you want. I know how much you guys loved them.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He smiled at her. “My mom will be really happy to see you. I told her about you at the Matheletes.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Oh.” She pushed her glasses up her nose, feeling deliriously happy for some reason. “Thanks. My mom saw your picture on the school website, when you won the cross-country. She says she thinks you’re growing into your legs.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry laughed. “Yeah, great-uncle Lester says that, too.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>It took them twenty-five minutes to walk to his house, Iris remembering how many times Nora or Joe would make them do this very journey everyday, making them promise to hold hands when they crossed the street, and Barry promised that he would walk her home afterwards. It took them an hour to go through the test, Iris explaining each of the concepts in as much detail as possible until Barry could explain them back to her, and then they sort of tacitly agreed that they’d do their calculus homework together after class. But then, after they had watched TV and eaten leftover casserole and caught up on four years as if it was no time at all, Barry looked at her across the couch, his green eyes hopeful and earnest. “Iris?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yes?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Thank you for helping me,” he said quietly. “I know you didn’t have to. And - and I know that we haven’t really talked for ages, but do you want to be friends again? I would like it if we hung out more, and stuff.” Iris blinked, trying to fight the smile that was forming on her face.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah, okay. I would like that.” She looked down at her hands. “I - I’ve missed you.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I’ve missed you, too.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>It was then, after two and a half hours, with Barry Allen smiling at her on his couch, that Iris realised that it didn’t matter whether it was time or distance that separated them, Iris would always do whatever he wanted.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And that hasn’t changed, apparently.</p><p class="p1">Thats why she’s sitting across from him, having just agreed to be his fake girlfriend. Why they have just laid out ground rules - what she suspects will be the first of many - for their fake relationship. Its his dumb face, that’s the damn problem. His dumb, adorable, beautiful face. All big eyes and long lashes and looking at her like she could move planets, if only she dared. He had been just as miserable as he had been that day after calculus, so of course she said she would help him. She’d almost completely forgotten about her own side of this - which is that she needs her mother to know that she has a boyfriend and absolutely doesn’t need to be set up on dates, and also that she’s not a headcase - and probably would have agreed even if she hadn’t needed him. But she does, and they have to lay the foundations of this or it’ll blow up in their faces.</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” she says finally. Barry looks up her, book abandoned by his coffee, a sliver of a bookmark peeking out of the pages. “We have the rules. Now we need a plan.”</p><p class="p1">“A plan?” he repeats, and she nods.</p><p class="p1">“A plan. I need a fake boyfriend to get my mom off my back and stop her from setting me up on dates. And you need one so people remember you as the Central City Superman instead of Patty’s ex in front of all those rich newspaper people.”</p><p class="p1">Barry blinks. “Actually, there’s other stuff, too.”</p><p class="p1">“Other stuff?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, the owners of the papers are like…kind of old-fashioned? The kind of guys who want you to have a serious girlfriend and be serious about your future, and just be…serious.” Barry says this last part a tad bitterly and Iris notices that he’s glancing in Patty and Thad’s direction as he does. “And I thought you’d be kind of perfect because you’re so smart, and you know what you want, and stuff.”</p><p class="p1">Iris turns this over in her mind. It certainly makes things clearer, why he needs her in the first place. She suppresses the lump in her throat when she realises that must not be over Patty just yet. It’ll make things easier in the long run. She nods. “Okay. So, you need me to be like a <em>girlfriend</em> girlfriend. I can work with that, but all that’s going to come later. For right now, I need to convince everyone who works at the paper, right? So by the time we go together, it’ll be believable.”</p><p class="p1">“Right. And I have to be a good enough boyfriend for your mom, so she knows you’re happy.” At her frown, Barry rolls his eyes and laughs. “Iris, you can’t just <em>tell</em> your mom that you have a boyfriend. She’s going to hear it in your voice that you’re making it up. So we actually have to go on dates, so you have something to talk about.”</p><p class="p1">Iris blinks. She hadn’t thought of that. “Okay. What do you have in mind?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, we have to start slow at first, right? So this can be our first date.” He thinks for a second. Do you have a pen? And a pad?”</p><p class="p1">Iris fishes these out of her backpack and hands them to him. The notepad has a picture of Naruto on the front of it, and Barry flips past her detailed notes on tachyons to find a blank page. He clicks the pen. “Okay. So, boyfriend things. You get coffee in the morning, right? Which days?”</p><p class="p1">“Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay, cool. I’ll meet you at Jitters and we can have a coffee date in the morning on Monday and Wednesday, and then on Thursday night we can have hot chocolate there,” he adds, scribbling this down. “Thats a fun date. Oh! We should come here on Sunday nights for waffles.”</p><p class="p1">Iris smiles a bit. “Why Sunday night?” Barry rubs the back of his head, avoiding her eyes suddenly.</p><p class="p1">“I just - I work a lot, on Sunday. Waffles are kind of my reward. Plus, they do really good ones, you would love them. Anyway, what do you think? Anything else?”</p><p class="p1">Iris considers this. “I could visit you at the paper,” she suggests. “And you could, um, walk me to class sometimes?:</p><p class="p1">“<em>Visit…paper</em>,” he writes down carefully. “<em>Walk to…class</em>. Anything else?”</p><p class="p1">Iris suddenly thinks of her relationship with Kyle, and what they would have been like if Iris got to list everything she wanted out of a boyfriend before they started dating. Kyle was extremely handsome, extremely intelligent, and extremely aware of both of those things. He was a business major, which meant he spent a lot of time talking about money and the best way to make it, and it meant that they spent a lot of time with his business major friends, who didn’t necessarily want to know about Higgs-Boson and the best place to see a meteor shower. Iris knew that he had liked her, that he thought she was cute and attractive, but she also knew that she’d spent a lot of their relationship feeling lonely. Which she had thought was fine when she was in the relationship, but now she’s starting to figure out wasn’t.</p><p class="p1">Like, they’d always have to have these double dates with his friends going to parties and mixers with people who thought she was boring. Which Kyle never really picked up on, and she never felt like he would do anything but mollify her so she would hang out with them the next time, so she never mentioned it. Whenever they went on dates, she noticed that he always had to go to the hottest or most popular event, and he rarely wanted to do anything she wanted to do, because that wasn’t her kind of scene. The problem was that through all of this, he was nice to her. He did take her on dates, and he did pay for dinner, and he did tell her how hot she looked in her clothes. He was nice to her, so she kind of let it slide that there were times when he wasn’t that kind to her.</p><p class="p1">“Iris?” Barry asks softly. “Are you okay?”</p><p class="p1">“I forget to eat lunch,” she says suddenly. “At the library. I go there all the time and I always forget to eat when I’m working. I want you to bring me lunch sometimes.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay. Yeah, I can…I can do that.”</p><p class="p1">“And bring me brownies.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris. I’m <em>your</em> boyfriend. The brownies are a given.”</p><p class="p1">She beams at him, feeling light all of a sudden. “Okay. When I visit you at the paper, what do I bring you?”</p><p class="p1">“Um… Yourself?”</p><p class="p1">“No, Barry,” she laughs. “You still like chocolate M&amp;Ms, right? And how do you take your coffee?” He folds his arms, looking at the table.</p><p class="p1">“I’m not telling you.”</p><p class="p1">“Barry.”</p><p class="p1">“You’re going to think its stupid.”</p><p class="p1">She peers into his cup, curious. “Are you one of those people who gets three different flavours, fills it with foam, and then covers the whole thing in sprinkles? Because I don’t think I could fake date you if you are.”</p><p class="p1">Barry sighs. “Bone-dry hazelnut cappuccino with oat milk and one brown sugar.” Iris tips her head, trying not to smile.</p><p class="p1">“Thats…particular.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m a particular guy.” At her giggle, he shakes his head, smiling. “Fine, whatever, I’m particular about coffee. What about you?”</p><p class="p1">“Americano, extra shot.” Barry stares at her.</p><p class="p1">“Iris, how do you <em>sleep</em>?” She waves a hand airily, grinning again.</p><p class="p1">“Honestly? I don’t.”</p><p class="p1">Barry grumbles something but obediently writes it down. “Okay, I think we have enough to go on. We can wing the rest as we go along.” He keeps scribbling and Iris frowns.</p><p class="p1">“What else are you writing?”</p><p class="p1">“Just stuff.” She tries to peer at them but he tilts the notepad away from her.</p><p class="p1">“Barry!”</p><p class="p1">“These are mine,” he tells her, ripping the page out and stuffing it in his pocket. “Our notes are different.”</p><p class="p1">She eyes him suspiciously. “Fine. Anything else?”</p><p class="p1">“Well,” he starts, then closes his mouth. A slow flush creeps up his neck. “We should…probably.. practice?”</p><p class="p1">“Practice? Practice what?”</p><p class="p1">“I mean - since, we-”</p><p class="p1">He’s cut off by the sound of Iris’ phone buzzing and she frowns at it, before rolling her eyes. Its more notifications from <em>#spottedatccu</em>; apparently either she or Barry have done something interesting enough to start tagging them both. But when she looks, its that someone has tagged her in a tweet at the very bottom of a long list of replies. When she scrolls to the top and reads the first tweet, she feels her face get hot.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @knickknolte: that Barry Allen guy is sitting in the dirty donut reading a book while thad is kissing his ex like three feet away from him #spottedatccu</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Reply from @jackthegiantkiller: that guy is such a loser, you think if I tried to take Iris from him he’d read a book in front of me?</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Iris?” Barry asks. “What? What is it?”</p><p class="p1">“Barry, could you get me a coffee?” Iris stands up, and he frowns at her. “And a donut?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh. Sure, what kind?”</p><p class="p1">“Um…the dirtiest,” she smiles brightly, and he nods. “I’ll be right back.”</p><p class="p1">Iris walks around the place, scanning the room, knocking brightly-coloured balloons out of her way. His profile is an anonymous Twitter egg, but it doesn’t matter. She knows “@knicknolte”, she met him at some party that Curtis invited them to for all the computer science majors when they finished their finals last year, which is why she’s peering around the room looking for him. A couple of people stare at her, whispering behind their hands, because apparently the whole being saved from a burning building still hasn’t worn off for some people yet. She’s about to give up when she spots him: a stocky white guy with mousy brown hair, laughing raucously at something on his phone with his friends. Iris steels herself and strides up to them. “Nick?”</p><p class="p1">He breaks off and looks at her, and immediately stops laughing at the look on her face. She smiles at him without humour, waving her phone. “I hear you’ve been tweeting about Barry Allen.”</p><p class="p1">“I - look, we’re just kidding-”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t care. If I see one more tweet from you about him, I’m going to start tweeting about <em>you</em>. Starting, with <em>this</em>,” she says, snapping a photo of his gormless face, “because we can’t have people not knowing what you look like, can we? And ending with whatever my roommate and I can find. You may know her? Her name is Felicity Smoak.”</p><p class="p1">This has the desired effect; Nick’s face pales and his mouth drops open. He looks at his friends, who have all put their phones away. Nick is from Felicity’s class, so he’s well-placed to know exactly what she can do with an internet connection and a bottle of tequila. “Thats what I thought,” Iris says smoothly. She leans in close, her voice soft. “<em>One tweet</em> from you or the tweedletwins over here about Barry, and CCU is going to get to know you all a whole lot better than you’d like them to, understand?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Barry frowns as Iris walks off, the heels of her boots clicking on the floor. She’d had that steely look in her eyes that he remembers from when they were teenagers, which usually meant that someone was absolutely about to get jumped. Joe used to warn him about that look and he’d only ever gotten it a few times. She’s left her shoulder bag with some of her books sticking out, and Barry peers over before fishing out his piece of paper and scribbling again. It is folded twice neatly, and has “How to be Iris West’s Boyfriend” scrawled across the top.</p><p class="p1"><em>Iris still reads </em>Vogue - <em>surprise her with it?</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Drinks Americanos with extra shot, make sure she drinks water (and sleeps???)</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Make her laugh</em>
</p><p class="p1">He looks up, scanning the room for her. He’d always been good at making her laugh, and then she’d smile at him, one of those secret best friend ones that she reserved just for him. There had been a moment, when they were going through how he was supposed to be a good boyfriend, when she had looked really sad, for some reason. He gets the feeling that it has something to do with Kyle, her last boyfriend, but he’s noticed that she hasn’t mentioned him very much since that night walking home from the party. That, at least, is like the Iris of their childhood - Iris got really quiet when something was bothering her, and you had to coax it out of her unless she really wanted to talk about it. When they were fifteen, he would have just waited for her to tell him. Now, though, they are very new friends, so he doesn’t have that right. And she has Linda, so at least she has someone to talk to.</p><p class="p1">Barry thinks of all the things he is learning of her now, just from looking at her. Her face has lost most of its baby fat and she wears her hair loose and long rather than in braids or a ponytail. Her skin has darkened to a deep bronze (one of the reasons he didn’t recognise her but he knows its not the only one and he absolutely isn’t going to tell her about it), and her glasses are more adult, highlighting her cheekbones and her wide, dark eyes. She wears boots everywhere - big, heavy-duty, Kurt Geiger-type boots - and he doesn’t think he’s seen the same pair twice. She got her ears pierced again, like she said she would once she graduated, though no sign of the big gold hoops she always wanted to get. She still smiles a lot, when she’s talking or listening, but she still isn’t aware that she does it, and still has that boundless enthusiasm. He wonders if she kept cheerleading after they left school, or if her dad’s seafood jambalaya is still her favourite comfort food. He feels like he’s filling in an outline of a person who has purposefully only existed on the periphery of his consciousness, something he’s worked hard to maintain.</p><p class="p1">And now they’re…dating. Kind of?</p><p class="p1">He still can’t quite believe that Iris agreed to this. She’s always been unselfish and willing to help people - adding to his conviction that Iris is in fact just better than most people, and still is - but for him? A guy she hasn’t seen in five years, and who she avoided for two? He turns the pen over in his hand, mulling what she’d said about her mother.</p><p class="p1">The murder of Joe West is still something that he can’t quite believe, that he’ll drive back down to their house and he won’t be in their kitchen making biscuits, or go into the city and not find the restaurant that he owned with his best friend, Ira. He and Nora had been away for two weeks when it happened. By that point, he and Iris were so severely not speaking to each other that other people had started to comment on it (to him, which earned them a glare hard enough that they stopped; he’s not sure about Iris). They went from being inseparable to quite literally barely seeing each other, so its not like he could have just gone over there. The Friday they left - for some distant cousin’s funeral that his mother had to go to - he hadn’t been thinking of her at all. He’d been thinking about Becky Cooper, the new girlfriend he’d suddenly ended up with, and how to convince her that, yes, he’d call as soon as he landed.</p><p class="p1">It was boring. It was in Wyoming, which is one of the places that he and Iris thought couldn’t possibly be a state when they were kids. But they were really the only family the cousin had left, and it was more of a reunion than anything else, with everyone staying in his great-uncle Lester’s house.</p><p class="p1">But then they got back.</p><p class="p1">He didn’t know, at first, not until he got to school. Ellie Graydon had rushed up to him during homeroom, breathless and eyes wide. “Barry! Oh my god, how is she?”</p><p class="p1">“How’s who?” he’d asked stupidly. By this point, everyone was staring at him. “Becky? She’s fine.” Ellie had goggled.</p><p class="p1">“No, <em>Iris</em>. We thought you might know about what happened?”</p><p class="p1">Barry felt something cold slither in his gut. “What happened?”</p><p class="p1">And she told him. How they all went home for the weekend, and by mid-afternoon on Saturday, everyone knew that Dr. Francine West, paediatric surgeon at Central City Memorial West, had killed her husband after an argument. That Iris was…somewhere, and Francine was still in custody because she wasn’t admitting that she did it. How now, two weeks later, their house was completely cleaned out, as if they never lived there, and no one had seen or heard from Iris since then.</p><p class="p1">Barry had turned and run out of the school building, right to the police station, where his mother was already there, yelling at David Singh for not calling her while she was gone.</p><p class="p1">“…thought that I didn’t want to know about this?” Nora was shouting. “God, David, Joe’s dead. He’s <em>dead</em>, what the hell happened?”</p><p class="p1">“Nora, I couldn’t tell you,” he had pointed out, pained. “You were on vacation, and your relationship with the Wests…”</p><p class="p1">“Bullshit,” she had snapped, and then noticed Barry hovering.</p><p class="p1">“Mom?”</p><p class="p1">They learned that Iris was staying with relatives, but they weren’t allowed to know where. Because Francine was a surgeon, various medical boards were involved, and there was even talk ofher having her medical license revoked. Also, since Iris was a minor, they were trying to keep everything out of the papers, but Francine was well-loved and so was Joe, so it was going to be hard for her to stay in the city. Which is why, Barry learned, Iris had transferred to a different high school miles away. Nora wasn’t allowed to be on the case, and David suggested to them both that it would be best if they stayed away to make sure that the police weren’t accused of improper conduct.</p><p class="p1">Iris didn’t call him once.</p><p class="p1">Barry wonders, now, how it had changed her. He remembers a few years ago when the conviction was overturned, but she still didn’t contact him at all. She and Francine must have stayed where they were, because he never saw them. He knows that his mother called them a couple of times, but she had known from after the breakup of their friendship that Iris was still a sore subject for him, so she never mentioned it to him. He wonders what she meant about that, about being too good at being alone. She’d had a boyfriend, and all her roommates, and lots of people seem to know and like her. But then, he couldn’t count the number of times, even when he was at parties or out with Patty or hanging out with his friends, that he had felt alone. That no one had really <em>seen</em> him. Maybe she had felt like that. But even with all that time and distance, she still seems like the same person she’s always been. Like she’s still his Iris.</p><p class="p1">Well, not - not <em>his</em> Iris, exactly, of course not-</p><p class="p1">“Excuse me,” he says to the waitress walking past. “Could I get an Americano with an extra shot, and the Dirty Special?”</p><p class="p1">“Sure. Is the Dirty Special for one or two?”</p><p class="p1">“One - uh, wait,” he says quickly. He’s Iris’ boyfriend now. Boyfriends share desserts with their girlfriends, don’t they? Patty had hated that, but he remembers Iris loved doing that when they were kids. They used to order all kinds of meals and then split it. Has she grown out of it, maybe thinks its childish? He looks around for Iris but she still isn’t back yet. “My girlfriend - well, not my girlfriend, she’s - we’re dating, it’s new, literally <em>so</em> new, and - two,” he finishes, clearing his throat. “Two, please.”</p><p class="p1">The waitress grins at him, winking, and then walks off to fulfil their order. Barry scrubs his hand through his hair, looking at his list again. He doesn’t know Iris all that well, not right now. They are a very different Barry and Iris than they were when they were teenagers. Also, they’ve slept together. More than once. And Barry really, <em>really</em> enjoyed it. In fact, he’s just figuring out how to broach that subject when Iris herself strides back around to their booth, smiling and looking pleased with herself. He raises his eyebrows as she sits down. “Everything okay?”</p><p class="p1">“Huh? Oh, yeah,” she says, waving a hand. “Bathroom. So, boyfriend,” she continues slowly, “what’s next?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, I thought we could-”</p><p class="p1">“One Dirty Donut Special for two!”</p><p class="p1">The waitress presents their meal with a flourish, adding Iris’ coffee next to it. They both stare at the plate. The Dirty Donut Special for Two is five plain chocolate donuts with sprinkles, arranged in a star, with three chocolate Oreo donuts on top of those, and then one donut with chocolate sauce, hot fudge, and white chocolate drops. Its obscene and delicious and Barry’s had it four times since he got to CCU (Patty usually hates them). Thats not what he’s staring at. He and Iris are staring at the meticulously-drawn hearts drawn all over the plate in chocolate sauce, what Barry assumes to be edible glitter covering everything, and the plate of heart-shaped cookies that she’s added to the order, all in different flavours. Iris blinks. “We - I don’t think we ordered-”</p><p class="p1">“They’re on the house!” she beams delightedly, looking between the two of them. “Just, because, you know, you two. Y’all are cute.”</p><p class="p1">“Thank… you,” Iris says faintly. Barry sees her swallow and look around, and its at this point that Barry realises that about half of the donut place is staring at them. Most are thankfully trying not to hide it, but there are still furtive, delighted looks and conversations behind hands. He looks back at Iris, who is wearing her “panicked and about to bolt” face, and is fiddling with the bandage on her arm. He clears his throat.</p><p class="p1">“I’m really sorry, but could we actually get this to go? And could I have one more of mine?”</p><p class="p1">The waitress’ face falls a bit but she nods. “Of course. Give me five minutes.”</p><p class="p1">She strides off with their orders and Iris gives him a grateful look. “Thank you. I don’t think I can handle the whole of our first date being entertainment for everyone,” she laughs, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Fake or not.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I get it. Look, Iris,” he says, leaning forward, “I’m really grateful you’re helping me. And I know this is going to be hard, but underneath it all, I’m still your best friend. We’re in this together, okay?”</p><p class="p1">Iris holds his gaze for a second, like she is searching for something in his eyes, before she nods. “Okay.”</p><p class="p1">He smiles at her. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.We can eat these outside on the quad.”</p><p class="p1">Iris gathers her things and makes a noise of protest when Barry takes her shoulder bag from her. “Barry, I can carry my own stuff,” she insists, but he shakes his head.</p><p class="p1">“You’re still injured,” he says, pointing at her arm. “And besides, which one of us has a propensity for getting caught in burning buildings? Is it me or is it you?”</p><p class="p1">Iris shoves him as they walk up to the counter. Well, she hasn’t gotten over her propensity to hit him, at least.“Thats not funny, you jackass.”</p><p class="p1">“Its a little funny,” he grins at her. “Jesus, Iris, what do you have in here, rocks? Apart from the <em>Vogue</em>. I should have known that you still read that.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, yeah?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “How would you have known that?”</p><p class="p1">“I mean, you’re all…you know.” He gestures at what she’s wearing. “Fashionable.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, I can’t afford anything in <em>Vogue</em>. I go to TJ Maxx and get everything for forty percent off.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, that’s not new, Iris,” he points out, mouth quirking. “Do you remember who had to carry your bags all around Sloane Mall on Sundays until we got to the food court?”</p><p class="p1">“You <em>offered</em>!”</p><p class="p1">“Like you wouldn’t have made me do it anyway.”</p><p class="p1">“Barry Allen, when have I ever <em>made</em> you do anything?”</p><p class="p1">“‘Barry, can we go to the auditorium this weekend?’” he lilts in that impression of her, tossing his head back. “It has a new exhibit on Halley’s Comet and it’s only going to be in town for one week. <em>Please</em>?’”</p><p class="p1">Iris lets out a breath through her nose, making a face like she’s trying not to laugh. “Okay, it is really creepy when you do that, first of all. And second of all, I only asked you that because you absolutely owed me for making me go to that history of the printing press lecture at the community college.”</p><p class="p1">“That was fun!”</p><p class="p1">“It was a ninety-minute lecture about <em>paper</em>.”</p><p class="p1">“About newspapers! In the 1940s, during World War Two, spies used to, like, pack papers like <em>The New York Times</em> with classified ads to-”</p><p class="p1">“Barry, we actually went to the lecture together.”</p><p class="p1">“Whatever, I’m still right. What about the time we went to CCPN for that competition and you made me spend four hours shopping for a shirt?”</p><p class="p1">“I made you spend four hours shopping for a shirt because you hated all your other ones, what else were we supposed to do?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, and it took four hours because <em>you</em> hated the ones in the store!”</p><p class="p1">Iris waves a hand at this. “They were sucky.”</p><p class="p1">Barry laughs. Back when they were teenagers, she’d had this look, where her eyes got big behind her glasses and this little furrow appeared between her brows and she stuck out her bottom lip, and it it never, ever, ever failed to make him do whatever she wanted. She’d had no idea about it and he absolutely wasn’t going to tell her, he’d decided at the tender age of ten, because then he’d never win an argument again. All she had to do was turn that look on him and say “please” and he was completely helpless. He and Joe used to dread that look, he remembers, and Francine always made fun of him because as tough and as no-nonsense as Joe West was, Iris had always had him wrapped around her finger. Both of them, though she didn’t know it, and honestly, it was like that with most people. All their teachers loved her, there wasn’t a single person in school who didn’t adore her, and he knew for a fact that there were guys in school who were jealous that she only seemed to tutor him.</p><p class="p1">She had worn that look when she had asked him for something in return for helping him, and that was why he’d agreed. Because she still has the look.</p><p class="p1">Now Iris looks at him, bottom lip between her teeth. “Did you really hate doing all that stuff?”</p><p class="p1">“Iris, no, of course not. I loved doing that stuff with you. Even the time we got stuck in the rain looking for that lightning storm. And most of it was on the list, don’t forget.”</p><p class="p1">Iris smiles at him, surprised. “Oh my god, the <em>list</em>. I can’t believe you even remember that.”</p><p class="p1">“Are you kidding? I still have mine on my computer.” Iris grins at him.</p><p class="p1">“Me too.”</p><p class="p1">The list was something they came up with when they were teenagers, trying to figure out all the things they’d do in the summer they went off to college. They had involved things like taking a road trip somewhere, going to a concert together, and going to a literature festival. They’d managed to knock out a couple - the CCPN trip, for example, was one of them - but obviously they never got round to the others. Its something that could plunge their conversation into awkwardness, but Iris just smiles contentedly.</p><p class="p1">“That list was such a great idea. We should see if we can finish it.”</p><p class="p1">“That’d be awesome. Just, we can’t take you anywhere with chemicals, what if you set yourself on fire again?” Iris almost growls.</p><p class="p1">“Barry Allen I am going to <em>hit</em> you-”</p><p class="p1">“Order’s up!”</p><p class="p1">The waitress walks up to them, offering a fresh box of baked donuts and two coffees in the holder, as well as another smaller box with the cookies. Barry takes the cookies and coffee and Iris takes a bag of donuts, inhaling deeply. Barry tips his head at her as he passes his card to the waitress. “Try one.”</p><p class="p1">“What, now?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, now. Do it.”</p><p class="p1">Iris narrows her eyes at him, but then reaches in and grabs an Oreo donut and taking a bite. Then she closes her eyes and moans in contentment. “Okay,” she says, mouth full. “Okay, you’re right, these are incredible. You guys do waffles, too?” The waitress beams at her.</p><p class="p1">“That we do! Breakfast, lunch and dinner!” She hands Barry back his card. “You should bring your girlfriend back soon. You two would love it. Happy Sweethearts Day!”</p><p class="p1">They walk to the quad, Iris eating her own donut and then trying to feed Barry bites of his while he carries the cookies and the coffee. “This is your fault,” she says as he bends to her height. “Because you’re so tall. God, where did you think you were going, the moon?”</p><p class="p1">“Everyone on both sides of the family is tall!” he complains. He opens his mouth for a bite, and Iris doesn’t want to know what they look like, with her feeding him donuts as they walk around. They talk more, telling each other about their courses and their hobbies, and working out the story they’re going to be telling everyone. She locates an empty bench with a table a little away from anyone else, so at least they won’t be heard. They arrange the rest of the donuts on the table, and Iris wipes the sugar off her fingers.</p><p class="p1">“That girl was right, you have to bring me back there,” she says, sipping her coffee. “Sunday, right?”</p><p class="p1">“Sunday,” he agrees, looking down at his hands. He briefly considers telling her, the thing he never even told Patty, but then decides against it. Not because Iris won’t understand, because he knows in his bones that she probably will, but because he’s still figuring it out himself. “And thanks for wanting to leave, by the way. I didn’t know they were doing the whole ‘Sweethearts Day’ thing so early, and then I saw…them, and I thought people would say I left because of them, which I kind of wanted, and…” he sighs, rubbing his eyes, and Iris reaches forward and squeezing his hand.</p><p class="p1">“You don’t have to explain things to me, Barry,” he tells him. “Love…stuff is…is hard,” she laughs softly, looking down into her coffee and then back at him. Barry wonders if she’s thinking about Kyle. “Anyway, I thought it was a little over the top, so…”</p><p class="p1">“Right.”</p><p class="p1">“Also, what did you want to practice?” she asks reaching for a cookie. Barry lets out a gust of a breath.</p><p class="p1">“Oh. Well, um. I thought, since we’re a couple, kind of, we should practice how are…are with each other. So we’re not uncomfortable. Like holding hands hands and touching and - and kissing.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh,” Iris says faintly. “Right. That’s - um, that’s true.” He sees her eyes dart to his mouth and feels his face heat. They aren’t saying the obvious - that they’ve done a whole lot more than kissing with each other. That he knows what its like to have her legs wrapped around him, how she sounds when she’s about to orgasm, that if you kiss her behind her left ear she’ll melt underneath you. But that had been drunk sex, which is very different to couple kissing. And there’s something else, too. The people who had the drunk sex and the friends they were feel like there is a demarcated line of their separation between them. And-</p><p class="p1">“Okay, so we should probably start with touching,” Iris says, pulling him out of his thoughts. She gets up and comes to his side of the bench, perching next to him. “Um, so hand-holding I think we don’t need to practice. Wait, you still moisturise your hands, right?”</p><p class="p1">“Of course I still - Iris,” he mutters, “God, you’re so annoying. Yes, I still moisturise.”</p><p class="p1">“What? Some people forget. Brad always forgot.”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t forget,” he says shortly, and she giggles.</p><p class="p1">“Fine. Um, touching? Is there anywhere you’re not comfortable with me…touching you?”</p><p class="p1">“That is the weirdest question I’ve ever been asked.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, I’ve never had a fake boyfriend before, Barry, so this is weird for me, too,” she says, digging her fingers into his ribs. He yelps. “Oh, so he’s still ticklish. Noted.”</p><p class="p1">“No,” he replies grumpily, twitching away from her. “Not - not noted. Stop it.”</p><p class="p1">Iris sticks her tongue out at him. “Look, Patty wasn’t big on PDA,” he admits. “I don’t…I don’t really know what’s good and what isn’t. So I think we should just…do whatever comes natural. If you don’t like what I’m doing, just tell me to back off, okay?”</p><p class="p1">Iris narrows her eyes very slightly and looks like she’s about to say something, but then nods. “Okay. I don’t really mind either way, so same here.”</p><p class="p1">“Great. So, uh, kissing.”</p><p class="p1">Iris studies his face. “I think the main thing is that we agree when to kiss. I think when we’re in public to say hi and bye, right? So it looks kind of boring and natural.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay. So on the cheek or on the lips?”</p><p class="p1">She considers this. “Both? I think mixing it up works.” Barry nods, taking one of her hands in his and bending his head towards her cheek. Iris freezes for half a second before leaning into him. Her skin is soft and warm, and smells faintly of lavender soap. He pulls back, looking at her.</p><p class="p1">“Um. Was that - was that okay?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, it was fine. Let me do you, I think I need more practice than you.” She scoots closer to him on the bench, and then reaches up to him as he bends his head. Iris grabs his chin lightly between her fingers, sending little electric shocks shooting across his skin, and presses her mouth softly to his cheek. “Oops, sorry,” she says quickly, wiping her lipgloss off his face with her thumb. “So…does that work?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. Yeah, its fine.” Barry clears his throat. “Um, do I need to shave? Would you prefer clean-shaven?”</p><p class="p1">“Wait, you shave?”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Iris</em>, oh my god-”</p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry! I just - I mean, I forgot how much I missed, when…I don’t mind,” she finishes a little sadly, shaking her head at herself. “Actually, if you do get a beard, keep it neat and moisturised. Please.”</p><p class="p1">“Noted.”</p><p class="p1">Iris tips her head. “I think I’d like you with stubble, actually. Just - if you’re wondering.”</p><p class="p1">He purses his lips, tries not to smile. “Thanks.”</p><p class="p1">They look at each other, ready for the last hurdle. Iris licks her lips. “I think we should stand,” she suggests. “Because you’re so tall, I need to cue when I’m about to kiss you. Also logistics.”</p><p class="p1">Barry stands and takes her hand to pull her up with him, and she looks up at him. He gets a sudden flashback to the time when they kissed in front of all their friends, and she had seemed so nervous. But they’re in this together. “You’re in charge here, Iris,” he says easily. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”</p><p class="p1">Iris nods, frowning slightly at his hands, before taking a deep breath and stepping into him. Then she takes both of his hands and puts them on her waist. Barry swallows at the feel of her body heat through her clothes, and he automatically bends his head so its closer to hers, and she balances her hands on his shoulders. They’re so close her can smell her perfume, which smells vaguely like spiced vanilla and maybe some kind of flower?</p><p class="p1">“So,” she says quietly. “So, um, when we kiss like - this, I think, until we get used to each other, I’m gonna put my hand here-” she places her left hand on the side of his neck “- and then you know we can kiss.”</p><p class="p1">“Right,” he nods, suddenly losing all ability to speak.</p><p class="p1">“Right,” she whispers. She tilts her face up to his and presses her mouth to his, sighing slightly as she does so. It’s a chaste kiss, light and quick, but he can’t help the flutter in his stomach and the warm feeling spreading out from his chest. It must be the familiarity. Her palm is warm on his face and her mouth tastes like chocolate and coffee. He pulls her more into him, slightly, squeezing gently at her hips. When they pull apart, Iris slides her hands back down to his shoulders.</p><p class="p1">“So, was that okay?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” he says hoarsely. He licks his lips quickly, surprised to find that she still, even after all these years, wears raspberry lipgloss. “Yeah, it was fine.”</p><p class="p1">“Did my glasses bother you? Kyle always preferred it when I wasn’t wearing them-”</p><p class="p1">“Your glasses are fine,” he interrupts. He’d barely even felt them. “Also, no offence, but I’m really glad you broke up with that guy. For obvious reasons.”</p><p class="p1">Iris laughs and lets go of him, adjusting said glasses. “Me too,” she says, going for a light tone, though Barry can hear the strain behind it. “Okay, boyfriend, I have to go, I have a paper I have to write. Is there anything else you want to…talk about?”</p><p class="p1">“Not really. I think - obviously Oliver and Cisco know, but I’m gonna start telling people we’re dating, so be prepared, I guess?”</p><p class="p1">“Sure. And same here, Linda knows, but as soon as Felicity knows, so will everyone else.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay. Wait, Iris,” he says quickly, remembering. “About…About the other thing.”</p><p class="p1">Iris swallows. “Right. I - I know that we were drunk, and a little stupid - well, maybe a lot stupid. And I know we both just got out of relationships, so its just sex.”</p><p class="p1">“Right,” he nods. “I mean, I had a great time.”</p><p class="p1">“Me too.” Barry can’t help but grin at that.</p><p class="p1">“You did?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes, Barry,” she says, rolling her eyes. Colour comes high on her cheeks and she looks briefly away from him. “I did. Both times. Shut up.”</p><p class="p1">“‘Kay,” he says quietly, still smiling. “I just - um.Well, I just think its a shame, that’s all.”</p><p class="p1">Iris gives him a look and his stomach does a slow, lazy flop, because that’s the look she gave him right before they kissed after he walked her home. And after she walked him home. She raises her chin. “Why?”</p><p class="p1">Barry suddenly feels hot despite the cold weather. Honestly. Iris West should give warnings if she’s going to go around looking at people like that. “W-Well,” he stammers. “Just, we clearly have really good chemistry, and it was great for both of us. So I guess its a shame we’ll never be…stupid again.”</p><p class="p1">Iris studies him, stepping closer to him. “Because you don’t want to or because you think its a bad idea?”</p><p class="p1">“Because I think its a bad idea.”</p><p class="p1">There, he’s said it. Kind of. He sees the minute Iris understands, and she bites her lip again. “I don’t think I think its a bad idea.”</p><p class="p1">“You don’t.”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t.”</p><p class="p1">“Why?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, because we both know that it doesn’t mean anything, and neither of us want it to. So I think if we decided to be stupid, again, it…wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”</p><p class="p1">Barry looks at her for a second. He’s never noticed - or maybe he just doesn’t remember - how intense Iris’ gaze is, when she wants something. And she wants <em>him</em>, like that. He knew she had during the times they hooked up, but that could have just been tequila. But she actually wants him enough that she doesn’t mind having a friends with benefits relationship with him. Actually wants one. He steps closer to her and grabs her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, like he always had when he wanted to reassure her.</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” he says finally. “But I have two rules. One: we stop the same time we stop the faking. Two: we can say no whenever we want.” Iris frowns at him.</p><p class="p1">“Barry. Of course we can say no. Did you think I was going to jump on you and not take no for an answer?”</p><p class="p1">“No, of course not, just laying it out. I don’t want anything to come between us. Okay?”</p><p class="p1">Iris gives him a small smile. “Okay. And when do you think we should stop the faking?”</p><p class="p1">“Huh. Well, the date of the Ball is a couple weeks before Christmas. When is your presentation?”</p><p class="p1">“End of November.”</p><p class="p1">“Great. So we can split up over Christmas break, and that way when we get back we can say we had a few weeks to get over it. Deal?”</p><p class="p1">Iris studies him, again, and he sees something swimming in her eyes. She always used to look at him like that, and he felt something in him sort of shift, like she had changed the conversation and abruptly they were talking about two different things. He suddenly and quickly became strangely aware of every cell in his body, when Iris had looked at him like that. But then she nods. “Deal.” She opens her mouth to say something else, but then her phone starts ringing insistently. She frowns down at it. “One sec, Bar…Hello? Yes, this is Iris West. Okay. Okay… Uh-huh. Wait, what? Are you sure? No, I…” she glances briefly at Barry. “I haven’t. No, I don’t mind. He’s a - you can tell him. Yeah. Thank you.” She hangs up and sits back down on the bench, taking several deep breaths. She’s started shivering, suddenly, and her hands are shaking. He sits next to her, taking her hand in his.</p><p class="p1">“Iris? What’s going on? What is it?” She shakes her head, swallowing.</p><p class="p1">“The - the fire, in the Murray B-Building,” she gets out. “That was the new campus chief of police. She said that the investigation into it has turned criminal.”</p><p class="p1">“What? Why?”</p><p class="p1">“Because…because it was started deliberately.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Tweet from @neganthestallion96: psure I just saw barry Allen and iris west on their first date #spottedatccu</em>
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  <em>Reply from @phantomdennis: I knew I wasn’t crazy. I don’t usually get into this shit but they’re cute</em>
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  <em>Reply from @abbiemillsstan: omg I saw someone posted her on Twitter, where did she get her boots from</em>
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  <em>Reply from @timythebusinessguy: lmao @empirestateofgrind isn’t that your girl??? @missiriswest why did you do my boy like this???</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Iris shuts the door behind her, leaning against it. Tea. She wants a cup of tea and her bunny slippers and the rest of the brownies Barry got her. Maybe some of the emergency soul food she had in the freezer. The cookies are in her hand - he insisted she take those - maybe she can eat those too.</p><p class="p1">She admits, she hadn’t really dwelled on the whole “trapped in a building filling with smoke” thing. Probably because it was an accident and because it wasn’t fatal. Just a freak thing that she could laugh over in a few years. But now she had heard that, instead of being the result of a prank, someone had purposefully hot-wired the toaster to short everything else. On <em>purpose</em>.</p><p class="p1">She has another interview with the police, and she’s been instructed not to tell anyone any details about the case. The lady on the phone stressed that they didn’t think anyone was trying to target <em>her</em>, but that they shouldn’t spread it around. Barry got a very similar call when she was walking her home, with his specifically saying that he had to keep it out of the paper to make sure they didn’t spook the person who did it.</p><p class="p1">“Thad,” she’d said faintly. Her limbs had suddenly gotten very heavy. “He wants a quote for…something, I think, he came to the house-”</p><p class="p1">“Forget about him,” he’d said firmly. “I talked to him. He’s not going to bother you anymore about that, okay?”</p><p class="p1">Iris had nodded, trying to steel herself. The idea of everyone at the paper talking about her when it comes to something like this makes her break out in a cold sweat, reminding her of the time when everyone stared at her at her new school because she was the weird girl whose mother was in prison for killing her dad. When the paper wanted to do a feature about her for the Harrison Wells competition, she had avoided it for weeks until Linda and Scott persuaded her to do it.</p><p class="p1">“Okay,” she’d said. She’d taken several deep breaths and then looked up at him, surprised at the concern on his face. Generally speaking, Iris doesn’t like to be thought of as fragile. “I’m fine, Barry. But I want to go home now.”</p><p class="p1">It wasn’t until they got to the front door that she noticed that she had slipped her hand into his at some point on the walk home. He had handed all her stuff over to her and then turned his collar up against the cold. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”</p><p class="p1">“Okay.”</p><p class="p1">He had hesitated, then leaned down to kiss her lightly on the cheek. She got a great big whiff of his Barry smell as well as whatever fragrance he was wearing, and she’d resisted the urge to inhale deeply. “Thanks, boyfriend,” she’d said softly, and he’d rolled his eyes, laughing quietly.</p><p class="p1">“Night, Iris.”</p><p class="p1">Now she is sipping camomile tea on the sofa, trying to figure out what to do next. She will, of course, tell her roommates, if not just because she doesn’t want them to start accidentally spreading stuff. Alex and Barry already know not to say anything. The problem will be to tell her mother. Iris feels a familiar twisting in her gut at the thought of worrying her mother. She did that enough when she was a teenager. And besides, what good will that do? She is thousands of miles away, on a cruise off the coast of the Caribbean. Like the police said, nobody was targeting <em>her</em>. Likely it was just someone who was trying to “send a message” to the administration. Everyone is always trying “send a message”, and honestly, Iris is as pro-protest as the next girl, but she seriously would prefer for people to send their messages in the suggestion box, like normal.</p><p class="p1">Iris looks up as Linda wanders into the room, dumping her bag on the floor and flopping down next to her on the couch. “Spin is evil.”</p><p class="p1">“Then quit.”</p><p class="p1">“I can’t quit. I like it.”</p><p class="p1">“Then I’m afraid you’re stuck, Miss Park.”</p><p class="p1">Linda grins at her. They have this same argument whenever Linda does her spin class, which she started in their first year. Iris has to admit, she admires the commitment. She tried spin once and took three minutes to decide that it wasn’t for her. Unfortunately for her, it left her unable to get up the next morning. Iris, despite her reputation as the house’s, as Laurel puts it, “hot nerd”, prefers kickboxing.</p><p class="p1">Linda sighs and lays her head on Iris’ shoulder, silky black hair brushing her skin. Iris slips an arm through hers. “Whats with the cookies?” She frowns at the table, where Iris has arranged the plate of heart-shaped cookies. “Wait, are these from Professor Stein and his wife? Like the sponge cake?”</p><p class="p1">“No, but how good was that cake? I can’t believe Sara let Cisco have the last piece. No, these are from the Dirty Donut. For Sweethearts Day.” Linda raises her eyebrows. In the background, Iris hears a door slam and wonders who’s home. Her friend nudges her.</p><p class="p1">“And do we have a sweetheart, Miss West?”</p><p class="p1">“I - Well-”</p><p class="p1">“<em>You’re dating Barry</em>?” Felicity shrieks, barrelling into the room. She throws her coat and bag on the sofa, her mouth agape in delighted shock. “<em>Barry is your boyfriend</em>?”</p><p class="p1">“We’re dating,” she says slowly. They had decided, to make it appear natural, that they wouldn’t call each other boyfriend and girlfriend yet. Iris watches as Felicity literally starts jumping up and down. “Yeah. We haven’t made it <em>official</em> official, yet. Felicity, <em>Felicity</em>-”</p><p class="p1">“I knew it! I knew he liked you. Oliver said he got all bashful and secretive when Tommy asked him about it at dinner. Come on, tell me what happened.”</p><p class="p1">Linda has her eyebrows raised so high they’re practically in her hair. “Yeah, Iris. Tell us what happened.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, I was walking home, and I saw him at the Dirty Donut, and I went in to talk to him, and we just…started talking about what happened, and school, and everything, and then he walked me home and asked if we could go on a real date.”</p><p class="p1">Felicity looks like she’s about to burst with joy. “You guys are unbelievably adorable. And <em>way</em> better than him and Patty. Barry always seemed like he was trying to impress her the entire time they were together.”</p><p class="p1">Linda frowns. “Aren’t you supposed to want to impress your girlfriend?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but not like that. Not like in a cute way. More like he was trying to get her approval.”</p><p class="p1">Iris feels a twinge of irritation. She had tried to be fair and diplomatic to Patty - Barry had loved her once, after all - but what the hell was the point in dating Barry when she hadn’t even seemed to like him very much? Everyone who knew Barry knew he was tactile; his mother used to call him the octopus when they were kids because he liked to hug people. And what was this about needing to get her approval? They were <em>dating</em>.</p><p class="p1">“Iris?” Felicity says. “You okay in there?”</p><p class="p1">“Uh, yeah,” she says, shaking her head. “Sure. Sorry. What were you saying?”</p><p class="p1">“When’s your next date?”</p><p class="p1">“Um, Sunday. We’re getting waffles”</p><p class="p1">Felicity grinned, hitting Linda in the arm. “They’re getting <em>waffles</em>!” She sighs. “You know, I’m surprised you guys never met before when we all hung out.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, that’d be because Iris spends most of her time in that lab and then when she does come out, leave everything early,” Linda says quickly. “You know, I think I’m going to get Barry to make you let loose a little more. Between my current best friend privileges and his historical ones, we should be able to make some serious headway. Hey, and if the building’s on fire Barry can save you, because he’s practiced!”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, whatever,” Iris giggles, before remembering. “Oh. Okay, guys, I kind of have to tell you something.”</p><p class="p1">“What?” Felicity asks, crunching on a cookie.</p><p class="p1">“The fire at the Murray Building was started deliberately. As in, not by the first-year physics students. It was arson.”</p><p class="p1">Their eyes widen. “Someone tried to burn down the building on purpose?” Linda demands.</p><p class="p1">“I don’t think the police know what they were trying to do,” she admits. “They won’t tell me. All I know is that when they interviewed everyone, they said that the prank this year wasn’t anything to do with a toaster. It was to organise a light show of a giant dick and project it onto the football field during a game.”</p><p class="p1">“Imaginative,” Felicity mutters. “What happens now?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, they don’t want it getting out, they don’t want to spook the person who did it. So I can’t talk about it, and you guys can’t say anything. They already told Barry not to let the paper spread anything, which means I don’t have to talk to Thad. He said he talked to him already?”</p><p class="p1">Linda snorts. “Yeah, you could say that.”</p><p class="p1">“What do you mean?”</p><p class="p1">“I asked Barry to get Thad to lay off with the questions and maybe see if he or I could get a quote from you instead. Twenty seconds later, he’s yelling at Thad about upsetting you and looks like he’s about to throat-punch him.”</p><p class="p1">Iris stares. She’s not sure how she feels about possibly starting a fight between Barry and his coworkers at the paper. “…oh. Well, that’s good. I hope they’re not, like, causing any problems.”</p><p class="p1">“What, you mean more than the problems he caused when he started dating Barry’s ex?” Felicity asks. “I’d want any excuse to throat-punch him, too.”</p><p class="p1">Of course. Barry’s protectiveness had nothing to do with her and everything to do with Thad. She nods. “Well, I’m glad he talked to him. I just have to make sure Laurel and Sara don’t say anything, so let me know when they get back, okay?”</p><p class="p1">“Cool,” Felicity says. She hugs Iris quickly. “Happy for you.” Then she hugs Linda. “Well done for going to spin. Gonna grab dinner in my room. Night!”</p><p class="p1">After Felicity has gone upstairs, Linda turns to Iris. “Spill.”</p><p class="p1">The thing that attracted people to Linda, Iris thought, and the thing that had made decide, when Eddie introduced them, that Linda Park would be someone who’d be in her life for a long, long time, was her eyes. Her best friend had very intelligent, very sharp eyes, eyes that dug in deep and could make you do or say anything. Iris knows she’s going to be a hell of a reporter one day, and she’s never been anything more than proud. But right now, she kind of wants her friend to live in the fairytale land that Felicity’s in, thinking that Barry is a nice guy who really likes her and could fall in love with her one day.</p><p class="p1">“It’s not a big deal,” she shrugs. “We agreed on terms and stuff, we have an end date, and we sort of have a timeline? But Barry’s…I mean, he’s pretty much okay to let me lead it. I think this could work, for both of us.”</p><p class="p1">“Uh-huh,” Linda says. “And…stress relief?” Iris studies the cookies, avoiding her eyes.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. We’re still doing that.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris! You’re going to be in a fake relationship with him <em>and</em> you’re still going to be having sex with him? How is that not an actual relationship?”</p><p class="p1">“That part where we’re not committed to each other,” Iris points out. “Besides, we’re not going to be doing it like rabbits all the time, and its not a regular thing. Just…when the mood takes us, we float the idea, and then if the other agrees, we’re good. Plus, if anyone catches us, it won’t matter, because people already think we’re dating.”</p><p class="p1">She’s still working on that part, because Barry just looks so…<em>delectable</em>, most of the time, that whenever she gets near him she has this overwhelming urge to tie him to her bed. She’s surprised he even agreed to it, but then, at the end of the day, he’s a guy. He is still the same Barry though, promising that he won’t push her more than she wants.</p><p class="p1">“Exclusive fuck-buddies,” Linda says dryly. “Gotta say, I’ve never done that myself. Are you sure?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” she says firmly. “Yeah, I’m sure.”</p><p class="p1">“Well, then I’m with you,” Linda replies. “And, for what it’s worth, you two make an extremely cute couple. Fake or otherwise. Also, Felicity is telling everyone, so get ready for the third-degree tomorrow morning. And,” she adds, “someone, uh, tagged you in something.”</p><p class="p1">“What? Did someone else try to get Ellen to notice the video again?”</p><p class="p1">“Ah, no,” Linda laughs. “Someone tagged Kyle into a thread about you and Barry’s first date.” Linda hands her her phone and Iris rolls her eyes once she recognises Kyle’s Twitter user name: <em>@empirestateofgrind</em>. Which should have been the biggest red flag, if she’s honest. “Have you spoken to him since the breakup?”</p><p class="p1">Iris hands the phone back, wrinkling her nose. She doesn’t like to think about her breakup with Kyle, because then she’d have to think about their relationship. When Kyle had given her an ultimatum, saying that she needed to figure out how to prioritise him over her work, he’d been surprised when she picked her work. As if she had ever given the impression that she’d do anything else. As if she’d ever pick a boy over what she loved. The only thing she felt when she thought of Kyle was mild irritation and shame - the former because she’d left her favourite sweater (Moschino, 90% off because there was a huge hole in it, decorated with a pattern of bears in an astronaut costume) at his place and she still doesn’t want to talk to him so he still has it, and the latter because she has no idea how she could have dated someone so annoying for so long. (Well, she has <em>some</em> idea, but if a boyfriend can be replaced with a good fantasy and a vibrator then good riddance, all the vibrator needs is batteries).</p><p class="p1">“No,” she sighs. “I haven’t. I’ve seen him a couple of times, though. He’s doing the whole “wounded ex” routine whenever he sees me. Hopefully he just ignores it.”</p><p class="p1">“Hopefully,” Linda echoes. Then she hesitates. “Did you, um - you talked to Wally, right?”</p><p class="p1">Iris frowns. “Yeah, about the… anniversary, why?” Then she realises. “Linda, I’m not going there with them. Did he ask you to talk to me?” At Linda’s guilty look, Iris sighs through her nose, taking her glasses off and cleaning them furiously. “Unbelievable. <em>Unbelievable</em>, I will kill him-”</p><p class="p1">“Iris, he’s just trying to help! Iris,” she says quickly, as Iris goes to interrupt her. “You go to your dad’s gravestone, every year, by yourself. You spend the day there, by yourself. And you come back and cry yourself to sleep, by yourself - you think I don’t hear you? He just - look, Wally just doesn’t want you to be alone.”</p><p class="p1">“I’d rather be alone than go to my father’s gravestone with bunch of people who almost left me in the foster system because they didn’t want me in the house,” she says forcefully, putting her glasses back on with shaking hands. A lump has formed in her throat and her nose has started to itch. She doesn’t usually get emotional about what her father’s family did to her - it must be the stress of the day. She swallows, folds her arms and looks at the floor. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but the answer is no. Okay?”</p><p class="p1">Linda sighs, and then pulls her into a hug. “I love you, you know that?”</p><p class="p1">“You should,” Iris sniffs, making Linda laugh. “I’m wonderful.”</p><p class="p1">Iris still feels fragile and slightly raw the next day, but luckily she knows exactly what to do to fix it. So before everyone is up, she packs up her gloves and her towel, dresses in her sports gear, and heads to the gym, something prowling and bass-heavy by The Weeknd blasting through her Beats headphones. Mark, the fourth-year sports science student in charge of her favourite gym, nods at her as she walks in. He’s tall, at least six five, with muscles the size of watermelons and a chest like an actual barrel. “You good, Iris? You’re okay to be back?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m okay,” she says easily. He surprises her by squeezing her shoulder briefly as she signs in, then points to her favourite punching bag at the far end of the room. “She’s all yours.”</p><p class="p1">Before he died, Joe West taught his daughter (and later Barry, Iris remembers with less sting than usual) how to fight. How to guard your face, how to punch without breaking your thumbs, the best places to hit someone so they’d leave you alone. When Iris had punched Tony Woodward, that time when they were small, her parents were dismayed that Iris had able to do <em>quite</em> so much damage to someone who was bigger than her, but when they got back home her dad made her snickerdoodles and said he was proud she didn’t have a scratch on her.</p><p class="p1">“You have to defend your friends,” he’d said firmly as she drank her iced tea. “No matter what, okay? Defend them and protect them, and make sure you pick good enough ones to defend.”</p><p class="p1">She remembers that Barry had outright refused to hit her when they were younger until they got the practice pads, even though he let her hit him. He said this was because he was never going to hit a girl, but she’d definitely be hitting guys. When she explained this to her mother, she said this was because Barry was going to be a gentleman when he was older; there weren’t a lot, she’d said, but Barry was definitely one of the good ones. But she knew, from the amused and proud look in her dad’s eyes when she used to knock Barry to the ground, that he never let her win. Which was worth everything.</p><p class="p1">Now, she does it for three reasons - one is that she likes to think that she’s making her dad proud, keeping up with kickboxing. That he’s smiling down at her and happy that she still knows how to knock a person out if she wants. The other is that it always makes her feel a little more capable, that she can face anything at all with just her fists and maybe her feet. After the week she’s had, what with the almost dying and then everyone treating her like she’s made of blown glass, she needs to feel like that again. She’d done it in high school, too, after she moved, which came in handy because as much as people thought she was the weird girl whose father was murdered and who had to go to therapy because of it, the fact that she was the only girl in school who liked kickboxing meant people largely left her alone. Largely.</p><p class="p1">The other, more boring reason is that its her main source of fitness - she’s a reservation cheerleader for the university but they take it so seriously here that she’s very rarely needed - since she tends to hate sports and doesn’t like people watching her exercise. Iris strides past people using dumbells, doing pushups and sparring in the ring, finds her punching bag, and gets to work. Five jabs on each hand, then five crosses, followed by working on her hook. Her right is better than her left, which she needs to correct. Flex, pull back, impact. The boxing allows Iris time to think, a space that’s not occupied by formulas and theorems and research.</p><p class="p1">She thinks back to what Linda had said, about her and Barry still doing the whole friends with benefits thing. She had been thinking about what drove her to say that to him, but to be honest, she knows its just because now that she’s had a little bit of him, she doesn’t want to give it up. In fairness to her, she <em>is</em> fighting over a decade of attraction.</p><p class="p1">Iris’ feelings for Barry hadn’t remained the pure, selfless, sweet love that she’d recognised in childhood, that she could dismiss as having a best friend that was so close that he was basically family, and she still remembered when it had started to change. When they were nine and she realised she wanted to hold his hand all the time, when they were ten and she noticed the shape and colour of his lips, when they were eleven and she felt like her skin was on fire when he looked at her. His face was becoming more angular and his eyes were a deeper green and there would be random, unhelpful moments when she kind of just wanted to press her face to his. It was confusing and weird, this newfound mix of emotions that accompanied the love she already felt for him. It was like her own body was betraying her; everything felt too big, too strong, her heart was always aching and her mind was wrapped around him. Iris would look at him and feel like crying or shouting or laughing, like hugging him and running away from him all at once, as if some part of her knew that this new intensity was as dangerous as it was irresistible. In a way, then, it was good that they grew apart, good that she could spend time away from him while she came to understood what it was, between them. While she understood what these feelings meant, that they were okay to have and that she shouldn’t be ashamed of them.</p><p class="p1">But then they got to be friends again, and it was different. By that point, Iris had kissed boys and held hands with them and understood that she had a little crush on Barry Allen. Thats what she told herself it was, when she saw him in the hallway and her heart would flutter, or when he would congratulate her on a chess win and she couldn’t help the huge grin on her face. It was a little crush. A small one. A baby one. It basically didn’t count.</p><p class="p1">And then they were friends again.</p><p class="p1">And she quickly realised, despite her best efforts, that this was not a crush.</p><p class="p1">Because now he had cheekbones and his eyes had deepened to green-grey and his smile made her entire world stop. He laughed and his voice had deepened so she could feel it in her chest and her bones, and when she hugged him she noticed that puberty - not to mention all the track - was slowly taking the softness from his body, giving him the beginnings of an Adonis belt. His shoulders were broader and he was already much taller than she was (something for which she punched him, repeatedly, when he teased her about it. She just wanted an excuse to touch him but she was so good at it that he never noticed), as well as lean and…muscly? She’d wanted to run her hands all over him, with his long limbs and lopsided grin and <em>freckles</em>. God. Sometimes she hated looking at him, he was so damn cute. She had, however, managed to keep her growing attraction to him secret. Mostly.</p><p class="p1">Iris frowns and switches to round housing. She’s bad at this, she neglects it because it doesn’t come as naturally to her, but you can’t have kickboxing without kicking people. She takes a sip of water, watches a few videos on her phone to recap, and gets back to work.</p><p class="p1">There had been that time, right before their…not <em>breakup</em>, obviously, that’s not the right word, but before they stopped being friends, when Ellie Graydon had persuaded her to be on the cheerleading team, and Barry was on the track team, where they kept fighting. Like, <em>fighting</em>. Huge, loud, blazing fights that had them snapping and sniping at each other for no reason at all. It was near-legendary, the two weeks that Barry Allen and Iris West fought, because they were best friends. They’d fought about not spending enough time with each other, then they fought when they did, they argued at lunch or they ignored each other, they even did their homework in a sort of stony silence, since neither were willing to upend that part of their routine.</p><p class="p1">She’d thought - well, it was a few weeks after the kiss and she’d also been dating Brad, so for a second she thought (fine, hoped) that Barry had been jealous, but he made it abundantly clear that he hadn’t been. They made up, eventually, both apologising for everything, but that wasn’t what made Iris remember those two weeks.</p><p class="p1">Iris combines a right cross with a roundhouse kick, her breath coming in short huffs. No, it was the fighting itself, because Iris realised that when she was fighting Barry, there was something else lurking underneath all the irritation. Something that made her want to yank his head down to hers every time he scoffed at her, pin him to the wall with her hips whenever he folded his arms and glared at her, or plant her hands on his chest, digging her fingers into his shirt, whenever he tried to stalk away from her. There’d been more than a few times when they were in the middle of an argument and she’d wanted to kiss his dumb face just to shut him up. Even as a teenager, Barry was unbelievably hot when he was mad. His eyes got all stormy and his jaw hardened and the only reason Iris didn’t melt when he looked at her like that was because she was always just as mad as he was.</p><p class="p1">But, like she said, they’d made up. A couple months later was the big dumping on Homecoming, but Iris realised a few years later that all that UST never went anywhere. She just sort of…tucked it in, along with the rest of her feelings, and they were safely buried until a few weeks ago, when he turned up to haul Oliver home. Then he had taken one look at her and then it hit her like a freight train, all of these feelings. She had felt the weight of his gaze each time he’d looked at her, heavy and hot on her skin as if he were already gliding his hands over her, was already whispering words against her skin. That, at least, explained why she’d dragged him up to her room like she had, despite the fact that this was the boy who’d broken her heart.</p><p class="p1">Iris pulls her headphones down so they’re resting on her neck, spent. Her knuckles are aching and her whole body will be sore tomorrow morning, but its worth it. She feels way more capable than she did last night. Her mind sweeps over the anxieties in her life - the Harrison Wells prize, trying to make sure her mother doesn’t worry about her, her new fake boyfriend - and she feels a little more equipped to handle it. She feels a little dread creeping into her when she thinks about the anniversary - and all the fun emotions that come with it - but she pushes it firmly down. She’s face it when it comes.</p><p class="p1">“All done, killer?” Mark asks cheerfully as she’s signing out a little while later. “Hey, how’s your boyfriend?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, he’s not - I mean,” Iris corrects herself quickly, remembering that for all intents and purposes, Barry <em>is</em> her boyfriend. God. This is going to take some getting used to. “We’re just…We’ve just been on one date.”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t think I’ve seen him before,” Mark muses. “You know, until the video of him with that news girl, and the one with you. Why’d he do it? He have a crush on you or something?”</p><p class="p1">Iris happens to know that Barry goes to the gym on the north side of campus every week. Its one of the reasons she comes to this one. She laughs. “No, I think he just had an attack of chivalry, but I’m not complaining.”</p><p class="p1">“Is he a good kisser? He looks like he’d be a good kisser.” Iris rolls her eyes.</p><p class="p1">“God, I miss you having a boyfriend, it kept you the hell out of my business.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris, please. I’m too pretty to tie down. Well,” he adds, “depending on who’s doing the tying.”</p><p class="p1">Iris laughs and high-fives him as she leaves, heading to Jitters for an iced coffee. She has an appointment to get her bandage taken off, and then she’s free for the rest of the day. The wind curls deliciously over her hot limbs, and she shoves her headphones over her ears again, this time opting for some good old-fashioned Rihanna.</p><p class="p1">It’s the same, she thinks, with their actual relationship. Barry being her boyfriend was always a far-away fantasy, a hope that she never allowed herself to want too much, because it always seemed impossible. They weren’t friends when he dated Daphne Dean, his first girlfriend, but she had known what kind of girls Barry liked - still likes, judging by Patty. He’d never seen her as anything more than a friend, had never even hinted at it. Thats probably why he knows she’s safe to do this - because he knows he won’t fall for her. She’s read all the books and seen all the romcoms where the two people fake-dating fall in love, but she that’s fiction.</p><p class="p1">All of that means that being with him, being his girlfriend, is another unresolved want. Another thing that she’s always wanted but never allowed herself to have. So now its the stuff of fairytales, of her wildest hopes and dreams, but that also means she has idealised it. Maybe now, within the confines of a relationship with none of the pressure of the real thing, she can put her feelings to rest. Barry’s lived on the edges of her dreams since they fell out and her father died, a symbol of a life she could have had. With this, she can resolve her wants and move on. Can’t she?</p><p class="p1">Iris tries it. Pictures a future when they’re “broken up” but still best friends. Where there are coffee dates and movie nights but only as friends. Would it be so bad? Would it be worse than the bewildering, aching hurt she’d felt when he’d stood her up and then stayed away, dating Becky and then not asking after her when everything happened? No, nothing could be worse than that. Besides, Barry’s sorry, she knows that. One thing she’ll never fault him for is that he abandons all pride when he thinks he’s upset her and never used to give up until she felt better. So she can imagine it. She carves that picture out in her mind and holds onto it. Barry and Iris, best friends again. Its her lodestone. And she’s still determined to look after him this. The cheerful, confident, grinning Barry seems a lot more subdued than she remembers, and she has an idea that it has everything to do with a certain perky blonde.</p><p class="p1">And the sex, well…aren’t you supposed to have fuck-buddies in college? She’s still kind of amazed that she knows him, like that. First of all, that goofy charm he’s always been so good at has turned into a smooth, sexy confidence that’s insanely hot. Also, Barry comes out with the filthiest things she’s ever heard during sex, something she hadn’t been expecting at all. She also hadn’t been expecting for the dirty talk to work on her, for it to make her writhe and moan and lose her whole sense of self while he’d been touching her. When she thinks of how he’d murmured the words in her ear - “<em>Ride me until you come, Iris</em>” and “<em>God, do you know how good you feel?</em>” and low, chanted curse words growled lasciviously against her skin - her stomach clenches. But - and this may be the thing that turns her on most of all - he makes her feel comfortable. He makes her giggle and he feels safe and he makes her feel…not just desired, but savoured. Which she realises she’s never really felt before.</p><p class="p1">She thinks of the way her body had reacted to him when they were teenagers, before and during their small bust-up and their permanent break-up, and wonders what Barry thinks of that time. Whether he even thinks about it at all. The Barry Allen poker face had been in full effect, but inside she’d been a mess. He hadn’t seemed that way at all.</p><p class="p1">Shrugging, Iris pays for her iced coffee and heads home. He probably dismisses it as teenage drama, because to him, that’s probably all it was.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <b>August, a few weeks before Homecoming</b>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>It was the kissing that did it, Barry decided for the millionth time. None of this would be happening if it weren’t for the kissing.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He picked at his lunch, nerves and something else warring in his stomach. The lunch hall was crowded and noisy, but in addition to the usual chaos of lunch there was an excited tension that was hard to shake off. The Central City School District Athletics Competition was being held in their school today, track was the last one, since it was always the most popular. Barry, who was the favourite to win the hundred metre sprint as well as being the last leg of the male relay race, had been rehearsing basically every day for the last few weeks. His coach hadn’t said he needed it that much, but honestly? He was glad of the distraction. Nobody had hesitated to remind him how impressive this was to college, how much the school counted was counting on him. He was only just in junior year and it was already getting to him.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Right now, they were finishing off the water polo in the auditorium, and the field events outside. Any minute, they’d call for everyone to make their way outside for the races. Girls went first and everything was always in descending order, so the boys hundred metre sprint would be last. Soon he would go meet Max - two hundred metre sprint and the second-to-last leg on the relay race, so they could do their warm-ups together. Barry looked around the room, but he already knew: Iris wasn’t there.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Because she was probably with </em>Brad<em>.</em></p><p class="p1"><em>Barry frowned, tapping irritably at the table with his fingers. The thought of the two of them made the uncomfortable churning in his stomach even worse, but he couldn’t help it. The damn kissing. He’d never have any of these…</em>feelings <em>if it weren’t for them kissing at that stupid party. But Iris hadn’t spoken to him about it, and it wasn’t exactly like he could ask. Then he wondered why he even cared, why he kept thinking about what would have happened if they weren’t interrupted. About the pressure of her lips on his, the way her skin smelled, and her hand over his heart. About the fact that he kind of wanted-</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry? You okay?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Huh? What?” Barry blinked. Cornflower blue eyes, sandy blond hair, and the green and gold of the Central City High cheerleading squad uniform came into his vision. But it wasn’t Iris, who was the person he usually saved this spot for. “Hi, Becky,” he said, shaking his head slightly. She smiled winningly at him, sliding closer to him on the seat.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Nervous?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Why would you…Oh.” She pointed to his leg, which was tapping along with his fingers under the table. “Yeah, a little, I guess.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Don’t be, I’m sure you’ll be great.” She paused. “So. You and Iris are…are you okay?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry grimaced. “We’re fine. We just - we’re stressed out, is all.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Which was a nice way of putting it. It certainly was the only explanation he was willing to give for why he and Iris had been sitting next to each other on the bleachers to watch the field events for exactly three minutes before they started arguing. Which they seemed to do a lot lately. It wasn’t even that important - she said that he was late, he said he had to be somewhere right before this, she commented that she had reminded him three times that she was doing the pyramid, then he snapped at her and she snapped back. He didn’t know who had been more shocked - the two of them, or everyone else. They were Barry and Iris, they never fought - except, these days, all they ever seemed to do was fight, and Barry didn’t know why. But no matter how mad they seemed to be at each other, he absolutely wasn’t going to discuss that with Becky Cooper. Iris might actually kill him. He cleared his throat.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Uh, I saw you at the pep rally this morning. You were good.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Thanks, Barry,” she grinned, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “Ellie’s been making us practice every night, I was so nervous I’d mess something up.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, you didn’t,” he assured her, scanning the room for Iris. Her and Becky were on the same team - a miracle by anyone’s standards, Barry wondered how Ellie Graydon kept herself sane - but he still couldn’t find her. “How was the water polo?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“It was good!” she replied, leaning into him and flipping her hair out of his face. “We won, but City Tech and St. Simon’s did good, too. Brad made the winning shot, obviously, and he got MVP.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Great,” Barry said dully. “Um, have you seen Iris? She was supposed to meet me here.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“She’s with Brad,” Becky shrugged. “He’s taking pictures with his trophy and stuff, they look really cute together. I’m sure she’ll be out in a sec.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Oh. Thanks.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Hey, are you going to Homecoming?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry frowned. Homecoming was six whole weeks away; he wasn’t even thinking about it. “Uh. I’m not sure. Maybe, I guess?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>They’re interrupted by a sudden flurry of activity at the other end of the room. People were filing out in droves, moving through the lunch hall on their way to watch the races. Barry’s heart started slamming wildly in his chest when he recognised the green and gold uniform of Central City High’s cheerleaders as they came out of the auditorium and into the lunch hall.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>The kissing </em>and<em> the cheerleading. That was the problem.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Not the act of the cheerleading itself - that, Barry was in full support of, since it made Iris so happy. Ellie has suggested Iris try out when one of the girls moved to National City, since a lot of her friends were on the team. Ellie thought they could practice in the summer before school started, and then do tryouts in the first week. Iris was nervous about it but he and Ellie persuaded her it would be fun, and it was, if Iris’ smile when Barry met her after practice on that first day was any indication. But he hadn’t been expecting the weird lurch in his stomach when he first saw Iris in her outfit, the pleated skirt and tight long-sleeved crop-top in green and gold. He hadn’t noticed before that summer, but Iris had legs. Legs and curves and a flat stomach, and her brown skin went well with the outfit. He hadn’t stopped noticing it since she started, which was becoming a problem.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>It started small, at first. Sometimes they’d been talking and he would randomly wonder what it would be like to kiss her again. Or she’d be watching TV on his couch after doing homework, staring absently at the screen with her head balanced in one hand, and his eyes would wander to her legs, before snapping back to the screen. He knew that it made sense, on some level. He was a teenager, all the hormones shooting through his body were normal, and he spent the most time with Iris. But then it got worse, especially as the competition loomed and he got more stressed out, and he hadn’t expected it. He hadn’t expected all his dreams, all the fantasies his brain gave him when he wasn’t paying attention, to be about Iris.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Sometimes they were in school and he had her against the lockers, his hands on either side of the wall behind her head, her hands folded on his chest as she kissed him. Sometimes he was pressing her into his mothers couch, her arms looped around his neck and her mouth hot on his. And other times - and these were the ones that made his stomach melt - Iris was straddling him in his desk chair where they did their homework. And she was </em>kissing<em> him. Her tongue was in his mouth and her hands were in his hair and every inch of her front was plastered to every inch of his. And in every single one of those dreams, she was wearing that stupid outfit. He always woke up hot all over, especially in one particular place, and he swore he could still taste her raspberry lipgloss on his tongue.</em></p><p class="p1"><em>It was beyond embarrassing. He always felt antsy and breathless and </em>weird<em>, when he was around her now. He felt like the world’s biggest creep, having wet dreams about his best friend. Because she </em>was<em> his best friend. Iris was his favourite person in the whole world, and he didn’t want his stupid hormones to make things weird between them. Well, weirder than they already were, what with the constant sniping at each other.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry’s heart sank further as he spotted Iris with the rest of the cheerleaders. She was in her cheerleader outfit, her skin glowing and her smile bright. On one side of her was Ellie herself, and Iris seemed to be talking excitedly to her about something. But on her other side, whose hand she was holding and whose lettermen jacket was tied around her waist, was Brad.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Bradley DiAngelo was the captain of Central City High School water polo team, one of the most popular guys in school, and the object of about eighty percent of the girls in school’s desire. He was tall and blonde, with sky blue eyes and, according to the girls in his English class, “the best body at Central City High”. Barry thought he was nice enough, if not a little self-obsessed, but not a bad guy, not really. Except that the weekend Barry kissed Iris at that party, she had a bunch of family over so he couldn’t visit on Sunday like normal and he didn’t see her until the next week, when she mentioned that Brad ran into her at the mall and asked her to get milkshakes. Barry remembered feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him, a little. But Barry was fine with it.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Totally, completely fine.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Except that Iris spent most of her lunch with him and then when she wasn’t, he was always sitting in </em>his<em> seat next to her, and he kept catching them kissing whenever he went to go find her. Once, he went over to her house on a Saturday to see if she was around and maybe hang out with Joe while he prepped his meals for the week, and found them kissing on the porch. He didn’t like the antsy, liquid feeling that started thrumming through him as he turned away and went back home before they could see him. He felt like the third-wheel in his own friendship, and uncomfortably like he was being replaced.</em></p><p class="p1"><em>Well, not - not </em>replaced<em>, exactly. He wasn’t Iris’ boyfriend. Duh.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>He gripped his fork and started tapping more insistently as they sat down, then playing with the cap on his bottle of water. Ellie was sitting across from Becky and Brad was sitting across from Barry, so he had a front-row seat to watching him try to suck Iris’ tonsils out of her chest. “Hi,” he said stonily, and they broke apart with a smack. Brad grinned at Iris, who had this ridiculously happy look on her face, then turned to Barry. Iris nodded at him and drank her water.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Hey, man,” he said easily. “Ready for the race?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Uh, yeah,” he shrugged. He was very carefully avoiding looking at Iris, who was also avoiding looking at him. “I think the relay race will be fine, and the hundred metres is usually okay. I’m not on for a while, so…” He trailed off as Brad got distracted and started kissing Iris again, and let out a breath through his nose. Becky sniffed and turned to him.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“So, Barry, what did you think of the routine? Ellie came up with it.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Um, it was good,” he said. He turned to Ellie and smiled. “I liked the…the flips. And the part at the end, where you danced with the mascot.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“That was my idea!” Becky said delightedly. Barry gave her a small smile.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, it was a great one, I liked it. Did you teach him to do the Cha-Cha Slide?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“We did!” Becky laughed and put her hand on his arm. “What else did you like, Barry?” Barry opened his mouth to answer and noticed that Iris was staring daggers at Becky. Ellie, who looked acutely uncomfortable, cleared her throat.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“Barry, did you see Iris on top of the pyramid at the end?” Barry swallowed as Iris transferred her gaze to him. “She practiced for </em>weeks<em>. We’re all so proud of her!” He avoided her gaze and went back to staring at his water bottle.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Um. Yeah. I thought she was…she was good.” Iris raised her eyebrows.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You did? I thought you didn’t see.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I did see.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah, well, you were late,” she muttered, fiddling with the sleeves of Brad’s jacket. “I didn’t think you cared.” Barry glared at her.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I got there, alright?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barely.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“I was </em>busy<em>, Iris,” he snapped at her, voice rising. “I was with Max and the coach, he wanted to talk to-”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Ellie cleared her throat, and that was when they noticed that everyone was staring at them. Brad didn’t look too impressed, and Iris looked stony-faced. Becky, on the other hand, looked positively gleeful.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris, do you want some water? I think maybe you got a little hot up there, maybe you should calm down?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No, thank you, Becky,” Iris said calmly, in a voice that Barry recognised as being dangerous for anyone within a five-mile radius. Then she turned to Barry, her gaze flat. “Could I talk to you for a second, Barry?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I think that Barry should prepare for the race,” Becky piped up again. “Because-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“It’ll just take a second, Bartholomew,” she continued, as if Becky hadn’t spoken at all, and Barry’s face heated as the whole table froze. Iris only used his full name when she was trying not to lose her patience with him. He let out a gust of a breath.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Fine, yeah, whatever.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris stood, handed the jacket back to Brad - who decided that this was the moment to kiss her again, and Barry rolled his eyes - and marched out into the hall, not even bothering look back to see if he was following him. Which irritated him all the more, because he was. The hallway was empty since everyone was getting ready for the races, and Barry swallowed when he saw Iris standing there with her arms folded. He felt like he had nowhere to hide, like she could see his discomfort sitting on him like a second skin, and that antsy, restless feeling started up again. The sounds of the lunch hall faded away as the doors swung shut. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry, what the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting like an ass for weeks.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I’ve been - I have a lot going on, Iris,” he tells her. “In case you hadn’t noticed.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“Of course I </em>noticed<em>, Barry,” she snapped back, stepping closer to him. He swallowed again, feeling something rolling hotly in his stomach. Iris looked especially kissable when she was mad at him. Weird. “You’ve been avoiding me and blowing me off every time we have plans after school.”</em></p><p class="p1"><em>“You’ve been hanging out with </em>Brad<em>,” he pointed out. “I didn’t want to get in your way.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“God, Barry, you-” Iris breaks off and takes a deep breath, her cheat rising and falling in tandem with his own.“You’re my best friend! You don’t think you could talk to me about whatever’s bothering you? You don’t think you could use your words instead of sulking at me like a toddler?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry stepped closer to her. “Who has time to talk to you when you’re busy sucking face with the Backstreet Boy clone?”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“And who would want to talk to </em>you<em> when you’re acting like the world’s biggest four-year-old?” Iris retorted, moving closer to him as well. “Not like I can even find you to talk to, anyway!”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry shakes his head, trying to clear it. Everything felt too vivid and too loud, and he was aware of everything - the bright anger in Iris’ dark eyes, the stubborn set of her mouth, the flush of her skin. And then there was him, chest heaving and skin tingling and something that was a little too hot to be just anger making him breathless. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “What are you even talking about?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Oh, what, you’re going to tell me I’m overreacting? That you don’t ignore me half the time and avoid me for the other half? God, Barry, you talk to Becky Cooper more than you talk to me!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You’re the one who doesn’t have time for me anymore-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>They were both interrupted by the doors swinging open and Angie peering nervously around them. Barry and Iris seemed to realise how close they were standing and sprung quickly apart. He noticed that Iris was staring at his chest, then looked away when he caught her doing so, folding her arms. Angie was looking at them both with wide eyes, and he wondered how many people could hear them, screaming at each other in the hallway. “Um,” she said tremulously. “Ellie says we have to get ready for the last pep rally. Are you guys…um, if you’re not done-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No,” Iris said stonily. “We’re done.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>With that, she walked past Barry, linked arms with Angie, who, before Iris dragged her through the door, mouthed, “Sorry.”</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Its a testament to how good she is that she still has her job, Barry thinks. Or maybe its a testament to how few people want to be campus police. But when Barry meets up with Alex Danvers in Jitters on Saturday morning, she’s just come back from her shift from patrolling the history building. He gets there before she does - he figures its professional, to get there before your interview subject - and orders chocolate croissants, which he knows are her favourite, and figures he can work on some editing before she arrives. The article about the vandalism in the Stella Building is actually way overdue, but Cat let him have some more time because of the whole “saving Iris from a burning building” thing. They’ve just sent out the latest one, and as he and Kara agreed, he’s going over the stories to see if they need to do anything differently.</p><p class="p1">His and Kara’s pieces are fine, mostly, though he thinks he needs to stop starting with so many declarative sentences. He also wants to get into more light-hearted stuff, and makes a note to pitch some of the stuff he has in his feel-good folder on his computer. Kara is coming off a massive story on the students union and he wants her to write some stuff in that regard as well, so maybe they can pitch it together. He’s pushing Cisco to write a few paragraphs on random science phenomena in addition to his radio stuff, since he has a natural flair for comedy. He’s not that confident on his writing, though, so Barry will have to help him there.</p><p class="p1">The little piece they put in to accompany the bulletin - Scott and Thad covered it, with information from campus police - is fine. Kara took it to head off any animosity between Barry and Thad, and its short, sweet, and includes just enough information without being too gossipy. Thank goodness Kara decided to go discreet, so they won’t have to pull it in light of the whole investigation turning criminal. She recapped everything that happened, along with a quote from the head of the university that said they were glad that everyone was safe and an investigation would be carried out into the building’s safety. Barry declined to give a quote, and he <em>might</em> have told a little white lie and said to Cat that Iris didn’t want to give one either. He knows technically that was a dick move and he should have asked her, but when he thought of how Linda said she doesn’t like talking to reporters because of what happened to her dad, he’d just thought to save her the anxiety.</p><p class="p1">Barry flips his phone over in his hand as he waits for Alex. Between today and yesterday, when they’d had their first “date”, he’s wanted to call her a million times, but he’s worried about what, exactly, he should say. Despite the fact that they have, officially, gone through a traumatic event together, they’re not that close. Yet.</p><p class="p1">“Okay, chicken legs, lets do this,” Alex says, pulling him out of his thoughts. She slides into the booth across him and grins, dark bob tucked behind her ears. She shucks off her jacket and stirs sugar into a black coffee. “Or, wait, what is it they’re calling you? ‘Central City Superman’, right?”</p><p class="p1">“Please don’t call me that.”</p><p class="p1">“Why not? Its sexy. I bet your girlfriend likes it.”</p><p class="p1">“She’s not my…” Barry trails off at the look on Alex’s face, then ducks his head, heat flooding his cheeks. This entire thing has been his idea, and he still isn’t used to it. “We’ve been on one date. Quit looking at me like that.”</p><p class="p1">“Are you going to go on another one?”</p><p class="p1">“Alex…”</p><p class="p1">“Sorry! But between you and me, you are way better than that other guy she used to date,” she continues, sipping her coffee. “He was so boring. I mean, yeah, he was gorgeous, and he dressed really well, but-”</p><p class="p1">“You know, I don’t… need his life story,” Barry interrupts, trying for a light tone. Alex gives him an amused look.</p><p class="p1">“Uh-huh. So, interview time. What do you want to know?”</p><p class="p1">Barry clears his throat. “I just need your account of the events, and if you noticed anything weird,” he says. “The Stella Building was brand new, and it was vandalised in the middle of the night. Some stuff was stolen, but it was all random, and none of it was valuable. Or, barely valuable, anyway.”</p><p class="p1">Alex nods. “Right. So I’m coming in for my shift and I notice, first of all, that no one’s on the clock. It’s night, so I figure they just went to the Dirty Donut for coffee or something.” Barry nods as Alex sips her coffee and pulls off chunks of croissant. “But then I get there and there’s no one around. The person who was supposed to be on shift was Tony, but when I checked the computer, he never signed in. I found out later that a glitch in the computer system sent him an email saying his shift had been switched to a different day, but no one got assigned to this one. It also turned off the cameras. Thats why the alarm wasn’t raised when the place was trashed.”</p><p class="p1">Barry stares at her. “You’re kidding. How old are your computer systems?”</p><p class="p1">“I think they’ve been around since Kennedy was president. Of course, we have enough money for guns so they can play soldier, but-”</p><p class="p1">“Alex, focus.”</p><p class="p1">“Right, sorry. So I go in and all I’m thinking is that we need to talk about those fucking computers. But when I get in there, the whole entrance hall is smashed.”</p><p class="p1">Barry nods, leaning forward. He’s seen the photos of the place - broken glass, trophies strewn about the place, graffiti everywhere. But so far, the weirdest thing about it is the glitch in the computer system. “Has that happened before?”</p><p class="p1">Alex frowns. “No, actually. The problem is usually that it mixes up names and stuff. It hasn’t deleted shifts in… months? I think.”</p><p class="p1">Barry makes a note of this. “And did you notice anything else weird about it? Anything out of the ordinary?”</p><p class="p1">“Uh…Oh! There was this one photo that got <em>really</em> destroyed. You know those big obnoxious glossy photos, hanging in the entrance? I took a photo of it because it was so freaking weird…” She fishes her phone out and flicks through it, before turning it to him. “This one.”</p><p class="p1">Barry stares at the photo. The picture’s been ripped from the rafters and looks like it’s been cut with something sharp, as well as scrawled all over with sharpie. Something cold passes through him, making his fingers tingle. He remembers the other photos - they had been badly-damaged, yes, but none like this. The slashes with the blade, the scribbles…this feels weirdly, deeply personal. And there’s something else, he realises, something familiar about the man in the photo. “Wait. Is that Harrison Wells?”</p><p class="p1">“Huh? Oh, yeah, that guy,” she nods. “He opened the building, actually. Thats why they think it was vandalised.”</p><p class="p1">Barry looks down at the photo again. He’s researched as much as possible about Harrison Wells since he heard about Iris’ competition - which is actually a much bigger deal than everyone is making it out to be - and he remembers know that he’d been in town last year to open the Stella Building. Super-genius, innovator, awards and patents coming out of his ass. Typical multi-billionaire, science’s answer to Bruce Wayne, that kind of thing. Of course, with that comes the people protesting you, your what you stand for, and the thing you want to build next. There have been several protests about him over the years, though Barry doesn’t remember reading about anything like this.</p><p class="p1">He doesn’t remember the building being opened - but then, science has always been more Iris’ thing. Maybe he’ll ask her. Alex drains the rest of her coffee. “Anyway, I called the chief and reported it. Thats when we noticed all the stuff that was missing. I think they’re waiting for them to turn up on eBay or something.”</p><p class="p1">Barry sits back. When Cat gave him this case, she’d just wanted him to write up what had happened. But this feels slightly different. This kind of feels like a story.</p><p class="p1">“Yo, Allen,” Alex says, waving her hand in front of his face. “Everything okay in there?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, sorry. And you’ve heard nothing since then? I mean, I’ve seen the building, it’s open now. Do they know anything about who did it? Fingerprints, anything?”</p><p class="p1">“Nope,” she replies, mouth popping on the “p”. “I think the lab are still doing their analysis and stuff, but they haven’t found anything yet.”</p><p class="p1">Barry nods, noting this all down. He can work with this. He needs to talk to Cat, and Kamilla, and maybe get some info from Iris, but this is definitely something. He grins up at Alex. “Thanks, Alex, this really helps. You can give a quote, if you want, but I don’t think the campus police chief would want you to do that…”</p><p class="p1">“What makes you say that?”</p><p class="p1">“Kara told me that in your disciplinary hearing you called him a waste of human oxygen and the physical embodiment of mayonnaise going bad,” he points out. Alex huffs.</p><p class="p1">“Come on, that’s accurate! You don’t think that’s accurate?”</p><p class="p1">“Believe me, if it were me, I’d have broken his legs,” Barry admits. He still feels red-hot anger slice through him when he thinks back to how cavalier he’d been with Iris almost unconscious in the building. She would have died if he wasn’t there. He looks back at her. “But you got to keep your job. So I will graciously refrain from doing anything that would put your job in jeopardy.”</p><p class="p1">Alex laughs, eating another croissant. “Good, because between you and me, I really need it.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m sure. Hey, did you get a call from the police? About-”</p><p class="p1">“The fire in the Murray Building? Yeah. I told Kara not to say anything, but I guess she already knew. How’s Iris doing?”</p><p class="p1">“She was a little freaked out, but she’s okay, I think.” Then he frowns. “There’s nothing - no one would want to hurt Iris, would they?”</p><p class="p1">“Barry, of course not. She’s harmless. Well, not harmless, because I’ve seen that girl throw a mean punch, but if you’re asking if I think that someone knew she was going to be there and then intentionally set fire to the building? The answer is no.”</p><p class="p1">“Good. Great,” he nods, and Alex nods, draining her coffee.</p><p class="p1">“Okay, I have to go, I have a thesis to write. I’ll see you later. Oh,” she says suddenly as she stands up. “Could you do me a favour?”</p><p class="p1">“Sure.”</p><p class="p1">“Some guy at the paper was asking me about the break-in, too, could you just share your notes with him? I’m not really in the mood to go through all of it again.”</p><p class="p1">Barry frowns. “Yeah? Who?”</p><p class="p1">“Uh…” she frowns briefly, then her eyes widen in realisation and slight horror. “Um. That guy who - Thad. Him.”</p><p class="p1">Barry stares at her. “Thad. Thad asked you about the vandalism at the Stella Building.”</p><p class="p1">“Uh, yeah, I think he was working on something to do with Harrison Wells and I guess he heard the place got vandalised?” She shrugs. “Whatever, he creeps me out a little, I always liked Eddie better than him. You’ll tell him?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. Yeah, of course I will.”</p><p class="p1">Alex thanks him and then dashes off, and Barry sits back. He knows that Thad is working on that piece - Cat is making him edit it, probably to force them to get along - but he’d had no idea that he’d asked Alex about the Murray Building fire. What would he want with it? And why hadn’t Thad - okay, he knows why Thad hadn’t wanted to talk to him, but that doesn’t really explain why he’d be talking to Alex about it. Does Thad think that Harrison Wells had been the target of the vandalism? But then, why write about that when you’re doing a fluff piece on him?</p><p class="p1">Barry shakes his head. Whatever. He’s trying not to let Thad encroach on his thoughts too much. There had been a period when the guy was all he could think about, because blistering, righteous anger felt way better than feeling depressed and pathetic. Thats what Cisco says, anyway. The urge to punch him in the face whenever they speak is lessening, but he also knows that it won’t take much to bring it back to the surface.</p><p class="p1">He packs up his stuff and heads to the paper, which is basically empty but he knows will start filling up with people soon. He usually asks that people come in for two Saturdays a month, but everyone usually comes in for all of them, which he likes to think is because of the atmosphere that he and Kara have worked to create. Also because Barry brings pastries. Cisco, who’s got headphones on and is working on his script at his desk, looks up. “Did you bring pastries?”</p><p class="p1">Barry dumps the fresh bag on the table. “You know,” he muses, taking his jacket off, “one day I’ll work in a newsroom that appreciates me for my humour, wit, and hard-won but ultimately charming intelligence.”</p><p class="p1">Cisco blinks at him. “Maybe, if you turn into a different Barry Allen.”</p><p class="p1">Barry gives him the finger. “Where is everyone?” Cisco leans back and starts counting on his fingers.</p><p class="p1">“Kara’s on her way in, Linda’s getting breakfast, Patty and Thad are…I don’t care, Kamilla is at her morning French class, Cat is coming at lunch, and Ronnie and Caitlin are downstairs in the sound room, making out.”</p><p class="p1">Barry frowns. “Ronnie and Caitlin are what?”</p><p class="p1">“Making out in the sound room. Ronnie’s supposed to be looking at the speakers but he brought Caitlin with him, and I’m not going down there to watch that.”</p><p class="p1">Barry eyes the intercom, which gives a direct line to every room they use. “Maybe we let them have their privacy,” he decides. “Hey, I have an idea for you.”</p><p class="p1">“Does it involve shooting me in the face in the event that I get some divine inspiration?” Cisco mutters, tearing out a page and screwing it up. He punts it at the basketball hoop that Scott installed over the door, then scowls when he misses. “I don’t know how you people do this every week.”</p><p class="p1">“Us with the words?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes! Do you know how long I’ve been sitting here trying to tell this story about Halley’s comet?”</p><p class="p1">Barry laughs, shaking his head. “Look, Cisco, nobody wants just a rundown of how the Comet got here, they could just use Google for that. They’re here because they want <em>you</em>. Think about how you would want the story to be told.” He picks up the pad and sets it to one side. “Look, leave it for a little while, okay? Let the muses...um, rest.”</p><p class="p1">Cisco grins at him, reaching for a pastry. “You’re such a dork, Allen.”</p><p class="p1">“How is it that you’re the science genius but I’m the dork?”</p><p class="p1">“You’re wearing a <em>sweater</em>.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s cold out!”</p><p class="p1">“Dork.”</p><p class="p1">Barry throws an eraser at him, then screws up some paper himself and shoots for the basket as well. Cisco leans back in his chair and puts his feet on the table. “So, word on the street is Iris decided to be your fake girlfriend.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris decided to be my fake girlfriend in exchange for me being her fake boyfriend,” Barry tells him. “She’s trying to get her mom off her back.”</p><p class="p1">“Right,” Cisco says slowly. He studies Barry for a moment. “Hey, you know all my exes, right?”</p><p class="p1">“Well, there’s Cynthia, from first year, who inspired the poetry, Tracy from the coffee place, Lisa Snart, who I’m pretty sure broke into our dorm room that one time and stole my Jordans-”</p><p class="p1">“Again, sorry about that.”</p><p class="p1">“-Carolina, who was your first love in high school, and Maria, from your kindergarten.” He frowns briefly. “Why?”</p><p class="p1">“And you know my family, you’ve met my brother, and my parents, and even my grandma. Remember her?”</p><p class="p1">“The cute old lady who gives me empanadas?” Barry chuckles. “Duh, of course I remember her.”</p><p class="p1">“And I know your mom, and your great-uncle Lester who always gives me bourbon when he visits even though we can’t drink. I know your best friend from high school, Max Mercury. I know all your exes - Patty, obviously, and Becky Cooper, and Daphne Dean, and even your first crush-”</p><p class="p1">“Ah,” he says quickly. “We don’t - there’s no need to get into that. Whats your point?”</p><p class="p1">“My point, oh pale and skinny one,” he says, pointing a Danish at him, “I know all that about you. But I never even knew that you and Iris were friends. <em>Best</em> friends.”</p><p class="p1">Barry shifts uncomfortably. Cisco’s right, of course. Because its one thing for Iris to avoid him completely, but he hasn’t spoken about her to anyone since he was sixteen. When his cousin, Jesse, would ask about her, he would just tell her that she moved and they didn’t speak anymore, and when people from school asked about her, he evaded until they stopped. But that brings about a whole mess of emotions that he doesn’t want to get into. “Well, like I said, I didn’t know she went here,” he shrugs. “And after that thing happened with her family, I just…I kind of thought I’d never see her again. And she was important to me, and it sucked, so I didn’t want to talk about it.”</p><p class="p1">Cisco regards him, then shrugs. “Whatever. Just curious. Because I like Iris, but you’re my friend. You’re the one I’m looking out for.”</p><p class="p1">Barry smiles. “Thanks, Cisco.”</p><p class="p1">“Which brings me to my next piece of advice: don’t fall in love with her.”</p><p class="p1">“W-What?” he asks, his heart rate picking up for some reason. “Why would I fall in love with her? It’s a fake relationship. Its pretty simple, you don’t fall in love with a person you’re in a fake relationship with.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s a fake relationship with someone who used to be your best friend,” Cisco points out. “Someone you have already hooked up with, twice. Thats not simple. Its messy. And are you sure she doesn’t like you? At least a little bit?” He frowns.</p><p class="p1">“No, Iris is - I’m not her type, like, at all, and she’s so - she’s basically perfect. And she’s way out my league.”</p><p class="p1">“Okay, maybe, but I’ve known Iris long enough to know she’s not that shallow. And you just got out of a long-term relationship with someone who - anyway,” he says quickly, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. “Be careful. Okay?”</p><p class="p1">Barry stares at him. Had he been about to say something about Patty? But he thought everyone liked Patty. Thats what people said when they met her, that she was so pretty and cheerful and nice. Sure, she’d ripped his heart out on live television, but still. “Okay.”</p><p class="p1">“Good.”</p><p class="p1">“Cisco, you - are you having a nap?”</p><p class="p1">“I find that the muses rest most effectively when I am.”</p><p class="p1">Barry’s about to reply to this when he hears voices, and turns to see that Kara, Patty and Linda have arrived, talking animatedly about something. Kara frowns at Cisco as she takes off her jacket. “What’s with him?”</p><p class="p1">“The muses are moving him,” Barry replies. He nods a greeting at Linda and Patty, who smiles back. He’d made a point to make sure that there was no awkwardness in the team, because it would suck to have everyone have to choose sides.</p><p class="p1">Linda comes over to the desk and pokes Cisco awake. “Hey, Michelangelo, wake up. Need to run something by you.”</p><p class="p1">“Barry?” Kara calls from across the room. “Got a minute?”</p><p class="p1">“Sure, what’s up?”</p><p class="p1">Barry sits on his desk across from Kara and she leans in. “Alex told me about the investigation into the fire,” she says quietly. “We have to tell everyone, right? So they don’t spill.”</p><p class="p1">“Right. I think Scott did a good job with Thad on the bulletin - it’s pretty sparse.”</p><p class="p1">“Do you know anything?”</p><p class="p1">“Nothing. Iris has an interview, but we don’t know what’s happening next.” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, so I need you to takeover editing duties for Thad’s Harrison Wells piece.” Kara smirks.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I figured.”</p><p class="p1">“Did Alex tell you?”</p><p class="p1">“No, Felicity. But also, I have eyes, Barry. I saw you both on the quad. Congratulations, you two are very cute.” Kara glances around the room. “Want to catch up on some stuff before the team meeting?”</p><p class="p1">Barry nods and they talk through some of their notes while everyone arrives and gets on with their work. Kara agrees on the Cisco front, and also wants to make Caitlin a more permanent fixture of the radio show. “She’s the most consistent one out of all the medics we use,” she points out, “and she gives the best advice. Plus, her banter with Cisco is adorable.”</p><p class="p1">“And there’s the fact that Caitlin is always around,” Barry adds. Kara blinks at him.</p><p class="p1">“She’s making out with Ronnie in the radio room, isn’t she?”</p><p class="p1">“Uh-huh.”</p><p class="p1">“<em>That’s</em> why the door was locked,” she mutters. “Okay, I think that’s everything on my list, you?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m good,” he nods, looking at his watch. Cat has just walked in, right in time for the meeting, and everyone has started to make their way over to the middle of the room so he can Kara can start. Everyone is in except for Scott, but since he’s in senior year everyone just cuts him the slack he needs. He does notice that Cisco and Linda are talking in low voices and casting furtive looks in his direction. He’ll have to talk to them about that later.</p><p class="p1">Barry starts off with congratulating everyone on their latest issue, as he always does, then gives out the assignments that he and Kara have decided on. She makes everyone organise with Kamilla which stories they’ll need her for, and then she and Barry tell Patty and Thad which ones will likely need bulletins on TV. “I still think you and Patty should do something with the student union story,” Barry says, turning to Kara. “Maybe you could interview some people?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but how?” Kara asks. “We don’t have a cameraman anymore, and I don’t really want to leave it to audio.”</p><p class="p1">“I could help,” Kamilla says, before it turns awkward and they all remember the reason they don’t have a cameraman anymore is because he kept leaving all the cameras on live, leading to the whole breakup debacle. “I have a camcorder, and Cisco and I can just work on everything in editing if it looks really bad.”</p><p class="p1">Cisco, who thankfully follows everything Kamilla says with an expression of rapt contentment, nods quickly. “Yeah, sure, we can do that. No problem.”</p><p class="p1">Making a mental note to check that Cisco knows what he’s agreeing to, Barry nods. “Okay, cool. Patty, are you okay with that?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m good,” she nods. “Thanks, Barry.”</p><p class="p1">“You’re welcome.” He looks back down at his list. “I interviewed Alex Danvers about the break-in at the Stella Building, so Kamilla could I have your photos?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, I have those here,” she replies. She leans over and digs in her desk, before holding up a folder. “I’ll give them to you in a sec.”</p><p class="p1">“Great. Okay, so, Thad,” he says, turning to him. Thad sits up, curious. “I talked to Alex Danvers this morning and she mentioned that you were asking her about the break-in. I have my notes, so I’ll just share them with you.”</p><p class="p1">Barry watches him, but he doesn’t give anything away. Well, fine. He’ll just have to figure it out on his own. “Thanks, Barry,” Thad says easily. “I appreciate it.”</p><p class="p1">“Sure.” He takes a deep breath. “Also, I know I’m the editor on your Harrison Wells piece, but we actually think it would be better that Kara takes it instead.”</p><p class="p1">“Why?” he asks, without hostility, and Barry clears his throat.</p><p class="p1">“Because from what I understand you have a section on the people in the competition, including Iris West. And Iris and I are…” He clears his throat, glancing briefly at his notes. “Well, we - we’re dating. So I think Kara would be more appropriate.”</p><p class="p1">Barry feels heat creep up his cheeks as everyone turns to stare at him. Linda is smiling to herself and Kamilla looks genuinely delighted. Patty, meanwhile, is giving him an unfathomable look. Cat looks faintly amused, which means she must think the whole thing is thigh-snappingly hilarious. Kara beams up at him. “I’d be happy to help, Thad,” she says, turning to him. “Barry said its turning out great so far.”</p><p class="p1">After Thad has agreed, Barry turns to the rest of the group. “I also just wanted to let everyone know that the investigation into the fire at the Murray Building is now a criminal one, so the police have asked us not to say anything further. Okay?” When they nod, he continues, “Any announcements?”</p><p class="p1">“I have one,” Patty says. She glances at him and he feels the weight of her gaze, but still doesn’t look at her. Its petty of him, but he doesn’t particularly care. “Ron Troupe is coming to do a talk,” she explains, pulling a stack of flyers out of her desk. “Week after next. He’s going to talk about his book, then do a Q&amp;A after. I thought it would be good for all of us to go.”</p><p class="p1">“It would,” Cat says evenly. “Ron Troupe was one of the sane people working at the Planet when I was there.”</p><p class="p1">He’s also one of the people who mentored Clark Kent, which Barry knows because he’s read absolutely everything to do with Clark Kent since he got famous. Cat stands as Patty starts handing out flyers to people. “Everyone make sure you get tickets. All the assignments look good, don’t screw them up.”</p><p class="p1">Cat then gets up to make a phone call in her office, and Barry turns back to his desk and gets back to work. There, everyone knows, and nothing bad happened. Patty keeps trying to catch his eye, but he lets her wonder. If she can start dating someone right in front of him, he can do the same. “Yo, Allen!” Cisco calls from across the room. “Chinese or Mexican? Or pizza?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, can we get pizza?” Kamilla asks. “And chicken wings.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, but from the place on Trucker, right?” Thad suggests. Kara frowns.</p><p class="p1">“Didn’t they have that problem with rats?”</p><p class="p1">“No, that was the place on Fifth…”</p><p class="p1">Everyone devolves into an argument about food, and just as Cisco is extolling the virtues of nachos on pizza, there’s a knock at the door. Barry turns to see who it is and blinks in surprise.</p><p class="p1">“Um, hi,” Iris says, smiling at everyone. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything…”</p><p class="p1">She’s very pretty in a white sweater with a black skirt and a green jacket that he’s noticed she wears everywhere, holding a cup of coffee. Green must still be her favourite colour. Barry suddenly has no idea what to do with himself. If it were normal between them, he would invite her in and show her the newsroom, introducing her to everyone. But now they’re fake-dating. Should he get up to kiss her? Hold her hand or something? Patty had hated that, maybe Iris would too. He’s saved, though, when Kara, who’s looking at him like he’s demented, smiles at her.</p><p class="p1">“Iris! Its good to see you, what are you doing here?”</p><p class="p1">“Linda forgot her purse at home,” she explains, “and she asked me to drop it off before I went to the library.” Her friend leaps out of her seat and bounds over to her, grinning. She pokes Barry in the shoulder on her way over.</p><p class="p1">“Thanks, Iris. Come on, Barry and I can show you around. Right, Barry?”</p><p class="p1">“Right,” he says quickly, standing and following them out of the room. Linda all but shoves them down the corridor. “Ow!” he complains. “<em>Linda</em>-”</p><p class="p1">“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” she says quickly. “Barry, <em>you</em> are going to show her around, and then you’re going to come back in looking all cute and newly-dating and stuff. Also, Barry, invite Iris over to lunch with us.”</p><p class="p1">“I - Linda, I can’t go to lunch,” she replies. She glances at Barry. “I have to go to the hospital.”</p><p class="p1">“What?” he frowns. “Whats wrong? Are you feeling okay? Do you want me to go with you?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m fine, Bar,” she assures him. “I just have to get this bandage removed.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh. Okay. As long as you’re sure.”</p><p class="p1">“I’m sure,” she smiles up at him. She seems to remember what she’s holding, and hands him the coffee. “Also, I got this for you.” Barry grins, taking a sip.</p><p class="p1">“Thank you, Iris. This is perfect.”</p><p class="p1">“See?” Linda says triumphantly as they smile at each other. “Good girlfriend.”</p><p class="p1">“Fake girlfriend,” Iris reminds her, and Linda snorts.</p><p class="p1">“Whatever. Barry, that was good, but save the protective boyfriend thing for when you’re in front of people. It’ll go a long way to selling it.”</p><p class="p1">Barry blinks. He isn’t aware that he’d been protective at all. “I’m - okay.”</p><p class="p1">Linda beams. “Good. Now, I actually have work to do and I’m hungry, so Iris, give me my purse. Barry, what do you want because otherwise Cisco’s just going to get whatever he wants…”</p><p class="p1">“I’m good with whatever,” he tells her, and Linda nods.</p><p class="p1">“Okay. See you two in a minute.”</p><p class="p1">With that, Linda strides off back to the newsroom. “Is this why you drink so much coffee? To deal with Linda?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, she’s a lot, sometimes.” Iris grins up at him. “So, you’re a real big-shot editor, huh?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m not a big-shot editor, exactly…”</p><p class="p1">“Barry, please. Linda told me everything, its very cool. You think I’m going to pass up the chance to tell everyone that my boyfriend edits the school paper?” She pushes her glasses up her nose. “I’m really proud of you, you know.”</p><p class="p1">He ducks his head shyly. “Thanks, Iris. I can show you around for real, if you want.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I’d like that.”</p><p class="p1">He grabs her hand and leads her around the place, explaining what they use each room for and some of the places they’re hoping to convert. “We want to make the radio room a little bigger,” he explains, as they walk out of the TV room, “and also do live interviews in the TV room. Kara and Scott are trying to decide on the vibe, though. And we still don’t have a cameraman.”</p><p class="p1">“Still, this place is really cool, Barry,” she says with awe in her voice, squeezing his hand. He’s not sure they discussed hand-holding this early, but it feels natural so he goes with it. She points to the door to the radio room. “Hey, is that - oh!” She presses her lips together. “Wow. So, Caitlin and Ronnie are still into each other. Thats nice.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, remind me to order them some food so they come up for air,” he says dryly. He leads her back up to the newsroom, answering her questions on what kind of stories they do, how they decide what goes on TV, and why Cat hates Mason Bridge so much. “…think its something to with something that happened in 95,” he says, “because there’s a whole section missing from his Wikipedia page from that year, and Cat once said that 95 was the worst year in news.”</p><p class="p1">“Wait, what if they had like, a torrid affair at some news conference or something? And they were at rival media companies and their bosses forbade their love?”</p><p class="p1">“Love?” Barry repeats, opening the door for her. “Okay, I’m going to introduce you to her, and then I want you to tell me whether you think she’s capable of love.”</p><p class="p1">“Barry! Come on, she can’t be that bad!”</p><p class="p1">“And what’s with the Romeo and Juliet thing? Cat would never be Juliet. If anything she’d be Lady Macbeth, except she’d win. And then she’d invade all the other plays and then kill them, too.”</p><p class="p1">“Barry!”</p><p class="p1">“Imagine Much Ado About Nothing, except she turns up to kill a couple every time they fall in love.”</p><p class="p1">“Like Beetlejuice?” Iris giggles. They quieten down as they enter the room again, but there’s no need, because everyone has stopped working and are literally just throwing paper balls through the basket. Barry leads Iris to his chair and he sits on the edge of the desk, which she immediately starts poking around in. He sips his coffee, amused, and Iris digs out his computer from underneath his notes. “Wait, is this the computer with all your, like, top-secret journalist files?”</p><p class="p1">“Iris. I don’t have top-secret journalist files. Thats just my laptop.”</p><p class="p1">“Trying to hack into this one’s computer?” Cisco grins, coming over. “You know, I’ve tried guessing his password for the last two years. No luck.”</p><p class="p1">Iris looks up at Barry, teeth sunk into her bottom lip, her brown eyes glinting. They may have only recently become friends again, but he knows that look anywhere. She opens his laptop and Cisco snorts as she begins to type.</p><p class="p1">“Okay, Iris, I know the two of you used to be close or whatever, but-”</p><p class="p1">The computer chimes with the welcome noise and lands on Barry’s desktop, a slideshow of various cities he wants to visit across the country, and Iris gives Cisco a triumphant look. “Barry’s had the same password since we were fifteen. And you are never going to guess it,” she adds, when Cisco opens his mouth, “because you weren’t there when he picked it.” Iris locks eyes with him then and he knows she’s thinking the same as him - of long, hot days walking through the French Quarter, of hushpuppies and seafood washed down with ice-cold iced tea, of moonlight dances on balmy nights on rooftops. Of all the memories he’d had to make himself forget about Iris, that one had been the hardest. From the colour that tinges her cheeks and the way she pushes her glasses up her nose, he knows she’s remembering the same thing.</p><p class="p1">“You realise now we have to kill you,” Cisco mutters, bringing Barry back to the present. He points at Barry’s computer. “There are sensitive files on there. Like photographic evidence of all the pranks we’re playing on Oliver. We’re going to put robotic spiders in his gym bag on Thursday.”</p><p class="p1">“Oliver hates spiders.”</p><p class="p1">“We know,” Barry and Cisco grin, fist-bumping each other. “I’ll see you later, Iris. I’m glad you’re okay.” He nudges Barry. “Central City Superman over here did good.”</p><p class="p1">Iris laughs again and Barry half-glares at her. “That is your fault, you know.”</p><p class="p1">“<em>My</em> fault? Nobody told you to go in there.”</p><p class="p1">“Iris, come on. I never would have left you in there,” he says. He shoves his hands in his pockets and focuses on the floor, not able to look at her for some reason. “I didn’t know you…remembered New Orleans.”</p><p class="p1">“I’ve always remembered New Orleans, Barry,” she replies quietly. Then she laughs a bit. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Cisco your password is <em>MintJuleps</em>.” He looks at her and she’s giving him a small smile, just like all their best friend ones. She sort of gazes at him for a second and then shakes her head slightly, reaching into her shoulder bag. “Um. I got you M&amp;Ms.”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Sweet</em>,” he says, taking the bag from her. He rips it open immediately, offers some to her, and then starts tossing them into the air and catching them with his mouth. “Thanks, Iris.”</p><p class="p1">“I - Barry, I cannot believe you still do that.”</p><p class="p1">“What? Its fun!”</p><p class="p1">“The first time you did that, you choked. I had to give you the Heimlich manoeuvre!”</p><p class="p1">“But I’m bigger now, Iris,” he points out. “I’ve practiced! Watch.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh my God, Barry,” she mutters, but she’s still smiling. Its here when he remembers that they’re supposed to be acting like a couple, but they’re just acting like the friends they’ve always been. He clears his throat.</p><p class="p1">“Hey, so there’s this…newspaper thing, in a couple weeks - this guy called Ron Troupe is coming to do a talk, and I wanted to know if you wanted to come, maybe? Its not going to be as boring as the paper lecture, I promise.”</p><p class="p1">“Ron Troupe,” she repeats. “That’s the guy who basically raised Clark Kent, right?”</p><p class="p1">“How did you know that?”</p><p class="p1">“Barry, I’m pretty sure I read his autobiography by proxy of how many times <em>you</em> read it,” she laughs. “Yeah, that sounds fun.” She looks like she’s about to say something else, but then the pictures on his desk catch her eye. “Whats this?”</p><p class="p1">“…oh, those are the pictures from the Stella Building,” he says. “I finally got around to interviewing Alex about it and we’re going to run it with these.”</p><p class="p1">Iris narrows her eyes at the pictures, then flicking through them. “Barry,” she says slowly, “is this a criminal investigation?”</p><p class="p1">“I think so? They’re looking for everything that’s missing. They think it will turn up on eBay. I wanted to ask you, actually, what do people think of Harrison Wells?”</p><p class="p1">Iris blinks up at him. “Why do you ask?”</p><p class="p1">“Because,” he replies, looking for one photo in particular, “all the photos were vandalised. But none of them were as bad as <em>this</em>.”</p><p class="p1">Iris’ eyes widen as she takes in the damaged photo of Harrison Wells. “Wow,” she breathes out. “This feels…a little…”</p><p class="p1">“Personal?” he suggests. Iris nods. “Yeah, I thought so too.”</p><p class="p1">Iris looks down at the pictures again and seems about to say something, but then her phone beeps. “Shit,” she mutters. “That’s my mom, she promised she would call before my appointment, she wants to talk to the doctor.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh.” Barry stands and reaches for her hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”</p><p class="p1">“Thanks, I - Hi, mom,” she says into the phone. “Yeah, I’m on my way. I had to do something first. I - <em>Mom</em>. God,” she mumbles, glancing at Barry as they stand outside the newsroom. “Yes, I went to see him. He’s - he’s fine. Mom, <em>mama</em>…He’s very cute, mom. We’ve been on one date. Okay, mom, I love you, but I’m gonna be late. You can meet him when you’re here. Okay. Uh-huh. I’ll call you when I’m there. Okay, bye, mom.”</p><p class="p1">Barry regards her. “How is she?”</p><p class="p1">“She’s fine,” Iris says lightly, in a way that tells him she’s trying to hide something. “She’s - you know, she’s spreading dad’s ashes, and you know, the anniversary is in a couple months, so I think she’s trying to keep herself distracted.”</p><p class="p1">Barry nods slowly, sensing that Iris doesn’t really want to talk about this. “So, does she know that its me? Your boyfriend?”</p><p class="p1">“God, no, Barry, if she knew it was you she’d call everyday and ask us when we’re giving her grandkids,” she says, not looking at him. “I didn’t want to put pressure on you, not yet. I’m going to tell her when she visits.”</p><p class="p1">“Right,” he laughs quietly. “Okay. I’ll see you at the house, okay? Tell me how it goes.”</p><p class="p1">“I will.”</p><p class="p1">Barry’s very aware that they’re in full view of the people in the newsroom, who aren’t doing a very good job of hiding the fact that they’re watching Barry and Iris. She takes a deep breath and gives him a meaningful look, before reaching her left hand to the side of his neck. He remembers at the last minute to duck his head down to kiss her. Its quick and sweet, like they practised. He absently brings his hand to her waist and pulls her into him a bit, but only because it feels natural. “Hm,” she murmurs quietly against his mouth. “You taste like chocolate. And coffee.”</p><p class="p1">“You’re welcome.”</p><p class="p1">Iris laughs and pulls away from him. “Bye, Barry.”</p><p class="p1">“Bye, Iris.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Barry is not a morning person. Mornings are for lying in with coffee and waffles. Nevertheless, every Sunday he gathers up his books and laptop into his old silver Audi (months of restoration and several paint-jobs; Barry loves it to death) and makes a pit stop to Jitters before he gets ready for the long drive. Eddie grins when he sees him.</p><p class="p1">“Hey, Allen,” he says cheerfully, wiping down the countertop. “Up and at ‘em again, huh?”</p><p class="p1">“Hey, Eddie,” he greets him, coming to lean against it. “What, do you open on all the Sundays now?”</p><p class="p1">“Yep. This is what happens when your professor also moonlights as a consultant for <em>Criminal Minds</em>, the schedule keeps changing.” He turns to the coffee machine and starts pulling and twisting and pouring, coming out with two cups of coffee and calling out people’s names. “So, the usual? Heading up to the North Central Library, right?”</p><p class="p1">Barry nods slowly, remembering the lie that he’s told everyone about where he goes on Sundays. With Eddie there’s an extra layer because he’s really just going to the Jitters in Keystone. Eddie already has guilt-tripped him over his allegiance to the Dirty Donut, he doesn’t want to make it worse by telling him he’s going to a whole different Jitters. He remembers that he met Eddie on the first day of freshman year when they both got lost on the way to their shared “Intro to Criminology” class, and accidentally ended up taking the entrance that led to the lecture stage. Their professor had ordered them to their seats, faces burning, but despite the embarrassment, that’s the kind of thing that made sure you ended up friends. Barry thinks its impossible for anyone to hate Eddie. Friendly, steadfast, unassuming, so different from his cousin, even with the fact that they had such different upbringings.</p><p class="p1">“Great,” Eddie says. “Coffee and two almond croissants, coming right up.” He glances back at him as he makes his coffee. “So. You and Iris, huh?” Barry looks up at him.</p><p class="p1">“Oh. You - you know Iris, too?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” he replies, looking a tad uncomfortable. “It - we went on one date. Just one, I swear,” he adds. “And it was awkward as hell, it was like kissing my sister. Well, actually, she said it was like kissing her cousin. You two, though, you guys are cute.”</p><p class="p1">“Thanks,” Barry says slowly. So Eddie is another one that Iris knows. Just how had she managed to avoid him for so long when she knows so many of his friends? He knows that Iris is small, but Jesus. How had he not seen her around campus, or no one mentioned the name “Iris West” to him?</p><p class="p1"><em>You didn’t recognise her, Barry</em>, a voice in his head reminds him, but he knows why that is.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, well, it’s new,” she says to Eddie. “Well, not <em>new</em> new, because we were friends before…”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, Linda mentioned that you used to be best friends,” Eddie nods, giving another order to his barista. He regards Barry carefully. “Like, really close. Right? So you knew her before her…her dad dad?”</p><p class="p1">“Yes. And before that, since we were five.”</p><p class="p1">“So you were <em>really</em> close.” Eddie pauses. He looks like he’s fighting himself, and then seems to make s decision. “Do you know - did she ever tell you about the guy she was in love with? In high school?”</p><p class="p1">Barry stares at him, feeling like the world has gone lopsided. Iris had been in <em>love</em> with someone? “N-No. She never - I never knew about anyone like that.”</p><p class="p1">Barry wracks his brain. She’d gotten over Brad after what seemed like a movie and Joe’s seafood fritters, and she hadn’t dated anyone seriously before that. He remembers with a twinge that she’d started hanging out with Tony Woodward after they stopped being friends, but he never got the impression that Iris <em>loved</em> him. He swallows, feeling a little sick. “It must have been after she left.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, I guess. I just thought it’d be safe to talk to you about it, and you wouldn’t - well, you’re close. We were drunk after a party once and she got upset and started telling me about this guy who kind of screwed around on her in high school, and once I heard that you guys went to school together I thought maybe it could be you.”</p><p class="p1">Barry almost snorts. Iris, for whatever reason, stood him up at Homecoming and then didn’t speak to him for five years, except to tell him to leave her alone. And he hadn’t been lying to Cisco, because he is absolutely the farthest thing from her type. To date, anyway. She usually always went for guys like Brad or Oliver or - well, Eddie. Obviously handsome guys with huge muscles, not skinny guys with freckles and stupid hair and an oddly long neck like him. He’d thought Patty liked that, but then even <em>she</em> eventually went for the same type in Thad. “It’s not,” he says out loud. “He must be from when she moved.”</p><p class="p1">“No, I know,” Eddie says quietly. “I figured, from the way she talked about him.”</p><p class="p1">“You are?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. That guy - he kind of sounded a little…like he didn’t really care about her feelings. And it was complicated because I think he was close with someone in her family, but he didn’t like her back, and she was kind of miserable about it. And Iris was sad to still be so hung up on him, but you’re so good and kind and stuff, I think you’d be really good for her. I mean, Linda says she talks about you like you walk on water.”</p><p class="p1">“She does?”</p><p class="p1">“You did save her life,” Eddie points out, and Barry runs a hand through his hair, nodding.</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, well, like I said, I don’t know anything about that,” he says quietly. He’s trying to remember that he’s trying to be Iris’ boyfriend, that to everyone else, they’re newly-dating and happy. “But I really…I really like her, and I’m glad she likes me.”</p><p class="p1">“Good,” Eddie nods, relieved. “I was just - I mean, I don’t normally go around telling her business but you guys were best friends, and I was worried. Please don’t tell her I told you, she’d kill me. I just…She’s been through a lot, you know?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. Yeah, I know, I won’t tell her. Thanks,” he adds as Eddie gives him his food and coffee. “Hey, um, did she mention his name? The guy?”</p><p class="p1">Eddie shakes his head. “No. He goes here, though. Thats why she was still so sad about it.”</p><p class="p1">“Uh-huh. Right. Well, I gotta go. Later.”</p><p class="p1">Barry is almost halfway to Keystone before he realises he’s still thinking about it. Iris had been in love with someone. Had been so in love that Eddie thinks she’s still hung up on him, years later. Add that to the list of things that he missed when they were apart. And then there’s the fact that he was playing on her feelings, or something, and she had to deal with it by herself since her mom was in jail and her dad was dead and she wasn’t close with her family. Maybe its good that he doesn’t know the guy, because he’d punch him.</p><p class="p1">But that’s all in the past now. He doesn’t need to admit to Iris that he knows - Eddie had seemed genuinely concerned for her - but he can let her know that she deserves better than some guy who doesn’t know what he has in her. Subtly. Or something. He at least knows that he’ll handle it better than how he handled Brad. And it’s not like its out of the ordinary; Iris has lived a whole life since her dad was killed and she had to move. He just doesn’t know how she can go through college going to school with a guy she’s pining after while pretending to date and sleeping with <em>him</em>. But then, she agreed to the arrangement. Clearly, she’s good at separating her feelings.</p><p class="p1">He wonders what would have happened if they <em>had</em> seen each other before Oliver decided to serenade Felicity with stolen flowers. By the time he got to college he had made - mostly - his piece with the fact that he’d probably never see Iris again. That they were friends for school and not for life, and she was off living hers somewhere. But there had been a small part of him that was like the boy in <em>A Hundred Million Stars</em>, waiting for his star to come back. After his dad left, he really only had his mother and Iris - Iris, who had beat up bullies for him, who knew exactly when to hold his hand almost before he knew he needed it held, who insisted on bringing him to family events when they were held at her house.</p><p class="p1">What would he have said? Hugged her? Demanded an explanation? Actually, he probably would have just stared at her, which is exactly what he did when he saw her again.</p><p class="p1">He frowns, changing lanes and following the route that led to Keystone. That night was hazy and memorable, all at once. He saw her and felt a shock, something pulling at his memory, but Iris looks so different from when they were teenagers, and he was drunk. He felt a connection, somewhere, but he kept doubting himself because she kept insisting that there wasn’t one. It wasn’t until he saw her name that he realised why he’d felt like that, that it was more than just being attracted to her. Which…</p><p class="p1">Look, he’s a guy, alright? And he and Iris kind of have amazing chemistry, and being with her had been the first time he hadn’t felt like such an unattractive loser since Patty broke up with him. And he knows Iris doesn’t mind doing the friends with benefits thing on top of the fake dating thing, or he wouldn’t have even considered it. He is surprised, though, at the strength of the attraction between them. Barry still remembers that horrible time when he’d started fantasising about her in only the way that a teenage boy could, likely because she was the only girl around to project onto.</p><p class="p1">And that stupid cheerleader outfit.</p><p class="p1">The first time, the night of the party, had been unintentional, but when he’d remembered how she’d felt on his fingers, how good it made him feel to have her moaning his name as she tumbled over the edge, he hadn’t been able to resist wanting more. He was so surprised when she took his hand that he’d all but picked her up and thrown her over his shoulder in his haste to get her to his room. And the second time was…he had no idea how hot it would be, whispering dirty words into his best friend’s ear as she begged him to go faster, as she came underneath him with her head thrown back into his pillows and her boots digging into his back and her mouth open in a silent scream. It had brought something out in him, something hot and dark and <em>carnal</em>, a confidence he never knew he possessed, and he kinds of obsessed with what she brings out of him. Maybe it’s their history, maybe it’s their connection, but Barry knows he’s going to make the most of it while he can. They’re Barry and Iris. They can withstand anything.</p><p class="p1">(And yes, there is still a juvenile part of him that feels unbelievably smug that he can get Iris to lose her mind like that).</p><p class="p1">Barry pulls into the Keystone Mall parking lot and takes a deep breath. After he’s unloaded his books and paid for a full day of parking, he makes the short walk through the plaza, past the fountain and the food court, until he’s outside again and can see the <em>KC Jitters</em> sign on the corner. The baristas know him by now, though not as well as Eddie of course, and make no protest as he takes a booth and gets set up, before ordering a decaf coffee since he finished the other stuff in the car. He knows he’s early, but he does actually have work to be getting on with. Namely, this whole situation with the Stella and Murray Building.</p><p class="p1">Its the computers, Barry thinks. If it weren’t for the fact that both times the computers mysteriously started causing problems in both cases, maybe he could ignore it. But both times, there was a malfunction that meant the first building could be vandalised without security and making sure the cameras were off, and the second time something happened so make sure the fire could continue uninterrupted. And Iris had been inside. He can’t shake the feeling that this has something to do with Harrison Wells, but then that would imply that it has something to do with Iris. But what’s the goal? Why steal those things, why vandalise the first building, why set the second on fire? He can’t believe that someone actually wants to harm Iris, that doesn’t make any sense.</p><p class="p1">There are two people he knows can probably help him with this. The first is Iris, but he doesn’t want to scare her. The second is Thad, who’s obviously thinking about something similar. Why else would he be asking Alex about the vandalism? And insisted on accosting Iris at her house to ask her about the fire? He knows something, and Barry has to find out what.</p><p class="p1">Barry’s alarm goes off, and he takes a deep breath, focusing on the door. He comes in at exactly seventeen minutes past one every Sunday, which is funny because Barry is never on time anywhere. He’s smaller than Barry remembers, which makes sense, he supposes, because Barry is over six feet now. But he remembers the smile, the easy charm he has with the baristas, because his mother told him that’s where he gets it from.</p><p class="p1">Henry Allen works in construction as a superintendent, he’d written in his letter. He lives in a small apartment on Keystone an drives a blue Chevy pickup truck, which is what Barry noticed when he followed him out the first time. Now, he walks in, briefcase in hand, and will order a toasted BLT on rye with caramelised onions and feta cheese, and a decaf black coffee and a bottle of water. Then he’ll eat, making conversation with people, probably read his book, maybe take a phone call. Finally, in a couple of hours, he’ll order a hazelnut cappuccino with oat milk and two brown sugars to go.</p><p class="p1">Barry still has the letter in his pocket. He’s had it for six months, since his mother sat him down and said that he’d written. He hadn’t wanted to read it at first but then curiosity won out, and the words had been swimming in his head ever since. How he had depression, how he and his mother fought constantly, how his illness had made him think that Barry would be better off without him. And now he was together, he was on medication, he had a job, and he wanted to be a part of his life again.</p><p class="p1">Maybe it’s because he hadn’t decided. Maybe it was because he’d only driven up here, that first time, with the letter in his pocket and and over a decade of hurt sitting in his chest. Maybe that’s why, when he decided to go to the coffee place that Henry mentioned he frequented, and he saw him for the first time, he hadn’t been able to speak to him. Why he still can’t. There had been so many questions over the years, but now he can’t bring himself to do it. To walk up to the man who abandoned him and demand answers.</p><p class="p1">He still remembers the day his dad left for good. Henry usually picked him up from school, but that day it was Joe who said he was taking them both home. Looking back on it, he knows that Joe had been preoccupied on the short walk home, preferring to let them chatter excitedly instead of talking to them like he always did. Then he let them watch cartoons before homework, and gave them cookies instead of real food. A few hours later, his mother picked him up, took him home, and explained that it would just be them from now on. The next day Francine came to visit and Iris, who was trying to cheer him up, said, “You can share my dad. I told him he has to be your dad now, too. Okay?”</p><p class="p1">He got used to it - he didn’t have much of a choice. Joe helped with that. Iris’ dad taught him how to shave, how to cook, how to fix cars, how to put together cabinets. But there had still been that gap, the missing picture on the mantlepiece, the questions when his mom came to visit. So when his mother gave him the letter, he didn’t reject it completely, like some might assume he would. At the very least, Henry owes him the meeting.</p><p class="p1">Henry walks to the counter. Jokes with the barista. Orders his sandwich, together with his coffee - no, today, he’s ordered tea. He sits at a table by the back, pulls out a book. He had finished <em>The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest</em> last week, and now Barry can see he’s pulling out Michelle Obama’s <em>Becoming</em>. He won’t see Barry, who’s sitting on the opposite side of the room hidden from view by an alcove.</p><p class="p1">Barry swallows. He doesn’t have the nerve this week.</p><p class="p1">Maybe the next time.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The Dirty Donut is kinda cute on a Sunday night, Iris has to admit. Its the only day they do savoury food, so its more full than it usually is. From her table, she can smell chicken and fries mixed in with the smell of the donuts. And all the hearts have been taken down, which she’s glad about. So now she’s just waiting, sat at one of the tables on a high chair, sipping her water. Barry texted her that he’s on his way, so she’s sitting there, minding her business, when she hears her name.</p><p class="p1">“Iris?”</p><p class="p1">Her stomach sinks. “Kyle.”</p><p class="p1">Kyle is very handsome, she’ll give him that. Light brown skin, strong jaw, honey-coloured eyes. When Laurel saw him, while they were out clubbing, she’d said, “He’s <em>so</em> in your league.” That had been what persuaded her to talk to him. And date him for as long as she had, probably.</p><p class="p1">“How are you?”</p><p class="p1">“Fine,” she replies. He searches her face, eyes narrowed, lips only a twist away from a smirk, like he always had been. Its amazing that that look can still trigger that burst of insecurity in her. She feels the sudden need to explain herself and she doesn’t know why. “How are you?”</p><p class="p1">“I’m great. I actually just got accepted to an MBA program in Metropolis. I start next year.”</p><p class="p1">“Congratulations, you always wanted to go there.”</p><p class="p1">“Thanks.” He leans into her, giving her whiff of his cologne, and she tries to hold his gaze. Kyle always loved to do this, that whole guy thing where they used their silence to spook you into revealing what you were nervous about.</p><p class="p1">“How are you doing, after all…I heard about the fire…”</p><p class="p1">“I’m okay, Kyle, really. It was nice of you to ask.”</p><p class="p1">“They said that you were working on your essay while you were in there?”</p><p class="p1">“It’s not an essay,” she says patiently. He knows this, she’s said it before, but Iris soon realised that Kyle didn’t respect her enough to remember what she found important. And right now, she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her get riled. “It’s a presentation, a speech, and an essay.”</p><p class="p1">“But don’t you think you’d be better off-”</p><p class="p1">“<em>Iris</em>.”</p><p class="p1">She feels a long arm wrap around her waist, a cool kiss on her cheek, and his smell mixed with the smell of outside. Barry’s hair is windswept and his cheeks are pink, but his eyes are bright when they land on her, and she remembers that he’d promised they were in this together, which probably explains what he does next. “Hi, Barry,” she smiles, feeling a little relieved. He sits down in the chair next to her, dumping his bag on the floor and scooting closer to her so he can keep an arm around her waist.</p><p class="p1">“Sorry I’m late, traffic was brutal. I hope you weren’t waiting long for me?”</p><p class="p1">“Not long at all,” she assures him. Kyle’s eyes flick between the two of them, at the smirk on Barry’s face. She tries not to notice how hot he looks, smirking like that. “Um, Barry this is Kyle. Kyle, this is-”</p><p class="p1">“Barry Allen,” he replies, shaking his hand. “Criminal psychology.”</p><p class="p1">“Kyle Pierce, business administration. Soon to be masters in business administration.”</p><p class="p1"><em>Oh my god</em>, Iris thinks as they shake hands, <em>men</em>.</p><p class="p1">Barry is tracing his fingers in circles on her waist and its distracting her, a little. A very little. She’d forgotten how big his hands are. She shakes her head. “Kyle was just asking how I was doing after the fire,” she explains. “And asking about the Harrison Wells prize.”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, did she tell you? She’s using the application of tachyon particles and existing theories behind dark matter to prove that one day, man will be able to move faster than the speed of sound,” Barry grins. “Cool, huh?”</p><p class="p1">Iris stares at him, and Kyle clears his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, she told me. Ahem, so you two are…how’d you meet?”</p><p class="p1">“Barry is the one who rescued me from the fire,” she explains, turning back to Kyle. “I’m sure you’ve probably heard.”</p><p class="p1">He has, Iris realises, because of that stupid tweet. His friend had tagged him in it, so he has to know. He probably came here to find out how close she and Barry are, whether they’re actually dating like everyone said or whether it was just a rumour. And Iris suddenly had very little desire to engage with any of his games. “And we’re about to have dinner, so I’ll see you later?”</p><p class="p1">“It was nice to meet you,” Barry adds cheerfully, and Kyle mutters something about getting back to his friends. He walks off in the other direction and Iris turns back to Barry. “How did you-”</p><p class="p1">“Kiss me,” he whispers quietly, and Iris blinks.</p><p class="p1">“What?”</p><p class="p1">“Kiss me, while he’s looking. He’s with his friends and he’s staring at you.” He pulls her chair closer to him and takes one of her hands, but doesn’t move any closer, still giving her the chance to pull away. She tries not to turn around, but she already knows that Barry’s right, of course he came in with his friends, spotted her, and decided to make a show of going over to her. Asshole.</p><p class="p1">Barry is still looking at her, green eyes steady as they’ve always been. Iris leans forward, closing her eyes, and presses her lips against his. He tastes vaguely minty, and she rests a hand on his chest to steady herself, where she feels his heart beating rapidly under her palm. He keeps tracing circles on her waist, slowly, and tilts his head to deepen the kiss, just a little. It’s a little ridiculous, how good of a kisser Barry is. They’re in public and he’s hardly being inappropriate, but it’s like she can feel him everywhere - electric sparks dancing where he’s touching her waist, the solid feel of him under her hand, the heat emanating from him as he sits in front of her. And now, the soft skin of his fingers as he caresses her jaw, pressing her closer to him. It’s like he’s exploring when he kisses her, like he’s searching for an answer only she can give.</p><p class="p1">When Iris realises she’s starting to feel a little drunk, she breaks it off. Her mind is swimming a bit, but even she’s surprised when the first thing she comes out with is, “Barry, your lips are freezing.”</p><p class="p1">She’s whispered it against his mouth, and he lets out a short laugh against hers. “It’s cold outside!”</p><p class="p1">Iris giggles and kisses him quickly on the cheek, before pulling back to fiddle with her clothes and adjust her glasses. She doesn’t need to, not really, but it grounds her, a little bit. She might need some practice in not letting Barry Allen get to her if he’s going to kiss her like that. When she looks up at him his cheeks are still flushed from the cold but he’s grinning at her. “I think we sold it,” he tells her, ruffling his hair. He regards her. “I - was that okay? I wasn’t trying to-”</p><p class="p1">“It was fine,” she tells him. She smirks at him. “Thanks, Barry. But the next time the two of you whip it out in front of everyone give a girl a little warning, I could have gotten a tape measure out and saved us all some time.”</p><p class="p1">Barry blushes, ducking his head. “Yeah, sorry. But he was looking at you like - like you’re the one who lost or something. It was annoying. And anyway, we’re dating. It fits.”</p><p class="p1">“Uh-huh. How was your day?”</p><p class="p1">Barry shrugs, taking off his jacket. “It was okay. I, uh, went to the North Central library, hung out. It was nice. You?”</p><p class="p1">“Oh, well, I was working on my simulation for the Harrison Wells prize,” she begins, pushing her glasses up her nose, “and I found out that there are actually materials that can withstand the movement from one dimension to the next - theoretically. My hypothesis is that a person could be injected with dark matter while charged with electricity, they could potentially gain the ability to run faster than the speed of sound. One of the side-effects was that they could potentially run so fast that they disappear to another dimension entirely. And to do that, you need a special blend of materials, stuff that’s tough but also firm, and…” Iris trails off, realising she’s been talking for thirty seconds. “So, that’s what I did. And then Linda and I make cake balls.”</p><p class="p1">Barry is looking at her the way he always had when she started babbling about science, with that small smile on his face and that soft look in his eyes, one hand under his chin. She's realising that Barry still looks at her the same way he had when they were kids. “I miss you nerding out on this stuff.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, well…Also, Barry, how did you know what the goal of my research is?”</p><p class="p1">“I got Felicity to send it to me, and then I read it.”</p><p class="p1">“You read it?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah. I mean, it took me about five hours, and I needed the New Oxford Dictionary for Science to get through it. And I had to call Cisco and then Caitlin. But yeah, I read it.” He shakes his head. “Jesus, Iris, I knew you were a genius, but this is insane. You’re totally going to win, you know that, right?”</p><p class="p1">Iris blinks, stunned in the face of this. No one but Felicity and Professor Stein has read it, and she certainly hadn’t wanted Barry to read it. “Well,” she shrugs. “I mean, I hope so. The other guys either have parents who are already leading scientists, or they’ve done stuff like this before.”</p><p class="p1">“So? Felicity said their work was derivative.”</p><p class="p1">“It is.”</p><p class="p1">“See?”</p><p class="p1">Iris laughs. “Thanks, Barry. So, should we order? I don’t know what to get…”</p><p class="p1">“Let’s just get the combo,” he suggests, opening the menu and handing it to her. “With milkshakes! Oh, and maybe sugar pretzels or something, I’ve never gotten those before.”</p><p class="p1">“Barry, haven’t you been here before? Everyone says its your favourite.”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” he admits. He pulls at his ear, gives her a bland smile. “Patty never liked coming here much, she said it was gimmicky. Which it kinda is, I guess.”</p><p class="p1">Iris has promised herself - and Linda - that she’s not going to say anything about Patty. When she was at the paper yesterday, the other girl was giving her a look that she couldn’t quite decipher. She’d wondered briefly if Patty remembered her from the time they ran into each other at Felicity’s birthday party, before Iris realised who she was and high-tailed it out of there. Barry had loved her, once, so she couldn’t be that bad. But there’s something about the look in Barry’s eyes that’s making it hard to keep that promise.</p><p class="p1">“I mean, it looks great,” she says out loud. “It reminds me of my dad’s chicken and waffles. Remember those?”</p><p class="p1">“God, they were <em>so</em> good,” he breathes, sitting back in his chair, no doubt reminiscing.“Remember when - Scott!”</p><p class="p1">Iris twists in her chair in the direction Barry is grinning in, and her heart sinks when she sees Scott Evans approaching them. It isn’t personal; she likes Scott. It’s just that she met him when she started going to City Tech and he’d been really close with Wally. They still are. If Wally finds out that Iris is dating Barry, he’ll come back just to punch him. Scott grins at them both, and Barry gets up to shake his hand and give him a one-handed hug.</p><p class="p1">“Allen! Whats up? I should have known I’d find you here, you never shut up about this place.”</p><p class="p1">“Whatever. Where were you yesterday? We missed you at the meeting.”</p><p class="p1">Scott shrugged. He’s still as good-looking as he always had been, with those chocolate brown eyes and full lips and bright, bright smile. About half the girls in City Tech were in love with him. Maybe if she’d been in her right frame of mind, she would have been one of them. As it stands, she only really thinks of him as a kind of cousin-figure.Scott looks at her now, eyebrows raised. “I had a meeting with my adviser,” he replies. “Which is a shame, because I missed Iris West, the girl who set herself on fire.”</p><p class="p1">“God, do none of you ever get sick of that?” Iris mutters, but she does get up to hug him. “Its not like I set the fire!”</p><p class="p1">“Thanks for saving this one, Barry,” Scott grins, winking at her, “my grandmother would have killed me if she found out I let her get burned to a crisp.”</p><p class="p1">“My pleasure.” Iris glares at them both.</p><p class="p1">“Oh, shut up.”</p><p class="p1">Scott laughs and turns back to Barry. “Well done on the latest issue. I’ll leave you both to your dinner. Later, Barry. Bye, Iris,” he says, smiling at her. Iris’ eyes flicker to Barry before she smiles back.</p><p class="p1">“Bye, Scott.”</p><p class="p1">He walks off and Iris breathes a sigh of relief. Maybe Scott won’t say anything. Barry’s still smiling when he turns back to her as she goes back to looking at the dessert menu. “Scott did the copy on that article, right? When you got announced as a finalist?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah, and we went to high school together. And his grandmother and my dad’s mom go to the same church.”</p><p class="p1">When Iris looks up at him again, he’s staring at her with a slightly shocked look. “Oh. You went...to high school together?”</p><p class="p1">“Yeah,” she shrugs. She doesn’t particular want to get into that period. There’s still a lot Barry doesn’t know about her and she’s not keen to start with that. He doesn’t know, for example, that his favourite book isn’t signed by his favourite author because she won a competition, but because she took a four-hour train to Gotham, tracked him down, and made him sign it. He doesn’t know that she has such severe nightmares sometimes that she has to sleep with all the lights on for days before she can get a good nights sleep again. And then there’s the matter of her being completely in love with him for years. Yeah, this can wait. “He’s nice. Have you tried the cookies and cream milkshake?”</p><p class="p1">Iris looks up again, hoping her change in subject wasn’t too obvious, and Barry is staring at her like he’s trying to work something out, and she thinks maybe his eyes linger on the necklace again. But then he smiles quickly. “Nope. Let's do it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <b>August, a few weeks before Homecoming</b>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>They were still mad at each other. They were sitting at his dining room table, doing homework in complete silence, and they were still mad at each other. Iris’ mouth was set stubbornly and his answers were all short and quiet. They were even still in their uniforms - him in his sweatpants and team shirt, and her in the cheerleader outfit.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>After their fight he went off and tried to put it out of his mind, concentrating on the race. The girls did their pep rally beforehand, and he avoided looking at Iris even as he was sure she wasn’t looking at him. Then he’d won the race, and all he’d wanted to do was look at her. Iris had always come to all of his races, encouraged him after his practices, always cheered him on. But now they were in this weird fight, and he wasn’t sure what they were going to do about it.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Right then, had Iris came out of the double doors of the auditorium, talking to Ellie about something. She stopped and stared at him, frowning, and then Ellie took her to one side, whispering something at her. Iris glanced at him and nodded, then Ellie squeezed her hand and walked off with the rest of them. Iris shuffled towards him, eyes downcast. “What are you doing here?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I…” He had swallowed, shifting his shoulders, then sighed. “We normally do homework today. You said I was blowing you off. Now I’m not.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris had scowled at him. “Oh, so you noticed?” Barry threw his hands up in the air.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Fine. Fine, Barry, just…” she’d sighed. “Whatever. Let me get my stuff.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Now Iris was looking through his work, not looking at him, and he was glaring at her English essay, making tiny corrections in the margins. They were doing homework, like normal, but they were </em>still<em> mad at each other.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“How’s Becky?” Iris asked quietly. Barry frowned at her.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Uh, she’s fine. Why?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, because she was telling me about how much time you were spending together,” she said stiffly. “I didn’t know the two of you were so close.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“We’re not </em>close<em>. We’re just friends.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You told her how nervous you were,” she pointed out, her voice still hard. She was still looking at Barry’s calculus homework. “About the race. I didn’t even know you were nervous.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“She asked,” Barry said, feeling himself get irritated again. “She was there, and she was being friendly.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry, you can’t get mad at me for not being there for you when you spend all your time avoiding me,” she snapped, finally looking at him. “Thats not fair!”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“I wasn’t </em>avoiding<em> you, I waited for you! I waited for you at lunch, like I said I would, and you were off with-”</em></p><p class="p1"><em>“Barry Allen, I swear to God, if you say Brad </em>one more time<em>-”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, it’s true!” Iris rolls her eyes and stands up, walking away from the table.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“God, Barry, is that why Becky Cooper is suddenly your best friend? Or why you’re thinking of going to Homecoming with her? Because I have a boyfriend?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“She’s not - it’s not like I asked her,” he snapped back, standing up as well. “She was just making conversation. And me talking to Becky is completely different to me hanging out with you!”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“Why? Because she’s a </em>girl <em>girl, and I’m not?” Barry stared at her, confused at why she was bringing that up again, it was years ago, and he’d apologised. She had her arms folded and she was glaring at him, but she also looked really upset.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris, you - come on,” he huffed. “You know I don’t think that, I just had no idea you were going to be one of those people who forgot they had a best friend once they got a boyfriend!”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“And you can’t be mad at me for having a boyfriend!” She twisted her fingers, her expression tense and a little desperate. “I can’t keep - I can’t keep </em>waiting<em> for-”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Waiting for what?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris locked eyes with him and opened her mouth, before shutting it and shaking her head. “Nothing. Forget it. Whats your problem with him, anyway? Why do you hate him?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry blinked, feeling thrown. He was about to deny that but he’d never actually considered it. He just assumed he was mad at the guy who was taking up all Iris’ time. Because they were best friends. Right? “I don’t,” he muttered, “I don’t…I don’t hate him…”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yes, you do! I know you don’t like him, everyone knows you don’t like him!” Barry blanched at that, at the idea that everyone else could see his feelings more clearly than he could. Iris took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. “Even Brad knows, too, which is really fun for me, and he said…”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“He said what?” Barry asked, discomfort making his voice sharp even as his heart sped up. The idea of Brad knowing that Barry didn’t like him - because, okay, he could admit that mow - was one thing, but the idea of him having </em>opinions<em> about it and then talking to Iris about it made him feel a little sick. Iris put her glasses on and twisted her fingers.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“He said, well, he thinks that you’re…jealous?”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Barry stared at her, feeling the word ping around the room, his head, his heart. His palms were sweating. That was…that was ridiculous. There was no way he could be jealous of Iris’ </em>boyfriend<em>. He was just…he was just frustrated that he had to share his best friend. That was it. Was that what everyone thought? Were they walking around thinking that Barry was jealous of Brad? Was that what </em>Iris<em> thought? Was that why she was staring at him like that, like she was standing on the edge of a cliff and didn’t know if she would be thrown over? He couldn’t have her think that; he couldn’t have </em>anyone<em> think that. It wasn’t true.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Was it?</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“Jealous?” Barry repeated. He even managed to laugh, a little, to make it believable, even though he absolutely did not feel like laughing. “Brad thinks I’m </em>jealous<em>? Well, he’s insane. I have absolutely </em>nothing<em> to be jealous about, especially not of </em>him<em>.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris flinched like someone had hit her, and expression sliced right through him, all of the anger draining away. She blinked rapidly, looking away. “You know what, Barry? Sometimes you’re a complete jackass.” She started gathering her stuff into her bag, not looking at him. He reached a hand out to her. “Wait. Wait, Iris-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I’m going home,” she said, pulling away from him and he stared, feeling a little like he’d missed a step on the stairs. Iris sniffed and rubbed at her eyes. “I’ll see you.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“But - Iris, it’s dark, at least let me walk you home-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, Barry, I don’t really want to look at your face right now,” she said, “so I think I’ll take my chances.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry’s words died on his lips as, without another word, she strode out of the room and out of the house, slamming the door behind her. Deflated, Barry sank into the desk chair, suddenly feeling that he had made everything about a thousand times worse.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry?” his mother asked at dinner later, when he barely ate any of his chicken. “Are you okay?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah, fine.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“How was the race?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“It was okay. I won,” he added, trying for a smile. His mother looked delighted.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry, that’s great! I’m so proud of you.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Thanks.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Then his mother sighed. “Okay, Barry. What are you and Iris fighting about?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He stared at her. “Iris and I - how did you know that?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry, I’m your mother. I know what it looks like when you and Iris are fighting. So, what is it?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry shrugged. “I guess - she has this boyfriend.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Brad,” she said evenly. At his surprised look she gave him a small smile. “You’ve mentioned him once or twice. The Backstreet Boy clone?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Right. And - he’s not that bad, not really. I just don’t think I’m handling it very well. We keep fighting about not spending enough time together. And - and I know that it was gonna happen eventually, because Iris is so amazing, you know? It’s not that I didn’t know she would ever get a boyfriend, or - get married, or whatever. I’m just not used to…sharing her, I guess.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>His mother nodded. “I see. Do you think there’s another reason you might not like Brad so much?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No,” he frowned, because he absolutely was not going to tell his mother that he had dreams about making out with Iris. “I mean, I don’t think so.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Alright,” she said after a moment. “Have you tried talking to her?”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“She’s mad at me. </em>Really<em> mad at me.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“It sounds like you’re both mad at each other. But I know Iris, Barry, and she cares about you. You’ll get past this. You just have to apologise and explain how you’re feeling.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. “Clean this up.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>When Barry called to see if Iris got home okay, Joe said she was busy, then admitted that she didn’t want to come to the phone. He’d known what that meant - Joe always told him that when Iris was mad at you, she’d ignore you so hard you’d forget you existed. But the look on her face wasn’t something he was prepared to let go - she was really upset with him. He had to get over this stupid stuff, he had to work out how to share her, or he’d lose her altogether. Apart from his mother, Iris was the only person in the world that he was absolutely sure that he loved. This past year, they had done everything together - gone on trips together, spent long Sundays in the park with nothing but an old radio and some food that Joe made, watched lightning storms with flasks of hot cocoa. He couldn’t lose her, not over something like this. He couldn’t lose his best friend.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>So that was why, on Monday, he got up early and walked to her favourite bakery, ordered three of her favourite brownies - one each, then one for her for later - and then walked to school, holding the bag carefully so that nothing got squished. He arrived at the cafeteria, where they usually met before class, sat in their usual spot, and waited. And waited. And waited.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry!” Becky Cooper walked up to him, smiling sunnily. “How was your weekend?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Uh, it was fine. Could you not,” he added quickly, as she made to join him, “sit there? I’m waiting for Iris.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Oh,” she said. She tipped her head. “Doesn’t she usually meet Brad right about now? Why don’t you meet her at lunch?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I’d rather wait now,” he said firmly. “Thank you.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Sure. See you later.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>But Iris didn’t show. She also wasn’t in homeroom and in none of their shared classes. He started to worry that maybe she was sick or something, but when he texted her, she didn’t answer. None of her friends knew where she was, though he did spot Brad giving him a baleful look from across the cafeteria at lunch. It finally got to the end of the day and he felt like he’d swallowed a lump of lead, when he heard her.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris walked up to him, out of breath and looking slightly harassed. “Barry,” she sighed. “There you are. I-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris! Iris, you left your notes,” Mr. Trellis, the teacher in charge of chess club said, handing them to her. “Thank you for your time today, we appreciate it.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“That’s fine, Mr. Trellis,” she said patiently, though Barry could tell it was anything but. “Like I said, as long as they follow the examples, they should be ready.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She waited until Mr. Trellis thanked her again and disappeared back into the room, before turning back to Barry. There was no sign of the anger from Friday in her face; in fact, she looked a little apprehensive. “I’ve been trying to find you all day,” she said, “but Mr. Trellis pulled me out of classes to help with the chess club tournament. I’ve been in there all day, I don’t know why he didn’t ask someone else.” He closed his locker, trying not to laugh.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris, haven’t you been the reigning champion since you were twelve?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I - yeah,” she admitted, laughing a little. Then she bit her lip. “Are you - can we talk, Barry?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He blinked at her. “Yeah, um - yeah. Okay. I kind of wanted to talk to you, too, actually.” He nodded towards the doors, and they went outside to sit on one of the benches on the field. Iris shivered slightly in the cold, and Barry resisted the urge to rub his hands up and down her arms. “I got you these,” she said, pulling a giant bag of chocolate M&amp;Ms out of her backpack, and Barry’s eyes widened. These weren’t the standard bag, you had to go to a specialist candy store to get these. And the closest one was an hour’s train ride away. “Iris,” he breathed. “Iris, you-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I’m sorry, Barry.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He stared at her. “You’re what?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “About…everything. After I left on Friday I talked to my mom about it, and she made me realise I haven’t been a very good best friend, to you.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You - you haven’t?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, Barry, you’ve mentioned about a million times that I haven’t been making time for you,” she told him. “You wouldn’t be saying it if it weren’t true. And then my mom pointed out, when I told her how often I’d been doing cheerleading and being with Brad, how little we’ve been hanging out. I should have listened instead of getting mad.” She paused. “And she also said that maybe I should listen to you because you might want to apologise as well.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I do,” he said quickly, moving closer to her on the bench. “Iris, I - I’m so sorry, I was being such an ass. I guess I was stressed about everything, and I thought you were pulling away from me, and I was scared that I was losing you, so I was - I lashed out. And I was blowing you off,” he admitted. “Because I was scared that you wouldn’t care about my problems, or something.” Iris stared at him.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry, you’re such a dummy,” she said finally, shaking her head. She took his hand. “Of course I care about you, you’re my best friend. You should have told me what you were worried about. You know I’d do anything for you.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“Yeah, I know,” he said, ducking his head. “And just so you know, I don't want to go to Homecoming with Becky. And I </em>was<em> jealous. Not of - not because he’s your boyfriend, but I guess because - because we’ve always been together, and I wasn’t used to it.I was trying to give you space, because of Brad. I thought you’d want to spend your free time with him.”</em></p><p class="p1"><em>“Not </em>all of it<em>, you idiot! I’ve missed you.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I’ve missed you too.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Actually,” she sighed, “I think we’ve both kind of been idiots.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Me too.” Iris eyed him.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You were the bigger idiot.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“‘True,” he agreed easily, and she smiled at him, pushing her glasses up her nose.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I forgive you. Do you forgive me?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Of course. Oh!” He digs in his backpack, bringing out the carefully-wrapped brownies. “I got you these.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“Oh my God, </em>thank you<em>,” she said gratefully, grabbing one and biting into it immediately. “Mr. Trellis wouldn’t let us get lunch. Not even I like chess that much.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry laughed, relief settling in his stomach. But still, he had one more thing to say to her. “And, look, Iris, I don’t really have a problem with Brad. We can all hang out more, if you want. We can all be friends.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris frowned briefly before swallowing. “Oh. Um, I broke up with him.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“What? When?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“This morning. Thats why I didn’t meet you in the cafeteria, I wanted to do it before class.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Why? What did he do?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I - Barry, how do you know he did something?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, did he?”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Iris sighed, taking another bite. “Lots of stuff. He was kind of self-obsessed, and not in a cute way, either. He didn’t do anything but talk about water polo, or swimming, or just generally being in water. I think he might be part-dolphin - which I told him, and he didn’t get that I was joking. And he was so </em>weird<em> about you.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“About…me?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah. He wanted us to have date night on Sunday because he has practice on Saturday and then he likes to sleep all day, but I said that’s when you and I hang out, or do something from the list. And he was like why don’t you move it, and I said because Sundays are for Barry, and then he got annoyed, and said I had to pick, and I don’t like ultimatums. So I broke up with him. Well,” she added, “all of that was...part of it.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“What was the rest of it?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Nothing, it’s not a big deal.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Come on, Iris,” he said, poking her. “Tell me.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She looked at him in that Iris way, open-mouthed and a little wistful, for a moment. Barry recognised this look - it was like Iris was trying to tell him something and he wasn’t understanding. It made his stomach flutter a bit. But then she continued. “He was also just…He didn’t make me feel special,” she said quietly, not looking at him. “My mom always says that if a guy really likes you, he’ll do anything to make you feel special. My dad leaves my mom little notes and makes her favourite desserts for when she has long surgery days and just…all that stuff. Brad could never even be bothered to remember that I liked lightning storms. I know what makes me feel special, and it wasn’t him. So. That was the main reason.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry suddenly felt the need to wrap his arms around her and tell her how special she was - which was a lot more productive than the other need he felt, which was to find Brad and shove his head in a locker. But Iris took his silence for something else. She rolled her eyes. “And yes, Barry, I know you didn’t like him, there’s no need for your ‘I told you so’ face. I thought a guy liked me for me for once, not because he thought I was nice to look at.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris, no,” he said, squeezing her hand. “That wasn’t what I was thinking at all. I mean, you are too good for him, but you’re too good for basically everyone. You deserve someone who worships you for how amazing you are,” he said simply, and Iris smiled, looking down at her brownie.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I know, Barry. You don’t have to tell me.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Maybe I should walk around telling everyone else. ‘Treat Iris well, or else.’ Just in case.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“What, like a guard dog?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He grinned at her. “Woof.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris laughed and then sighed again. “Anyway, whatever. Want to hang out at mine? My dad is making sweet potato pie, I think. He’ll be happy to see you.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>(Barry knows that he still has to do something about the fantasises about the kissing. Maybe counting Presidents?)</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Awesome,” he said. He started gathering his stuff and Iris’ eyes fell on something in his backpack.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry, did you get your letterman jacket today?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He blushed, scratching the back of his head. He had, in fact, been wearing that jacket all day, and really wanted to show it to her. “Yeah. I’ve been on the team for a couple of years now, and I won, so...”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“That’s great! I’m so proud of you!” She reached across to hug him and then pulled the jacket out, admiring the lettering. “It has Cedric the Central City Beaver on it!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I know.” He stood up and held a hand out to her. “Come on, lets go. I want to tell you what Max did with the shot-puts.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I hope he didn’t hide them in the food store cupboard again,” she replied, taking his hand and standing up herself. She slipped his jacket over her shoulders, and then froze. “Sorry, do you mind if I wear this? I’m cold, and I forgot my coat-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No, its fine,” he said quickly, trying to ignore the bubble of pleasure he felt. Iris slipped her arm through the crook of his and they started off home together, Barry explaining that Max snuck into the gym before school and hid a shot-put in each of the rooms that Mr. Henley used for his classes.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“He teaches in over a dozen rooms! He’s going to get suspended.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“He’s not going to get suspended, he’s a pro.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris laughed and Barry looked at her as they walked. Something was sitting in his chest, beating against his ribcage, that he felt like he wanted to say, but he couldn’t get the words in the right order. He wanted Iris to know that she was important to him, but she already knew that. Didn’t she?</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She had to know that.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry,” she said quietly, without turning her head. “You’re never going to lose me. I’ll always be yours - your best friend. Okay?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry swallowed. Maybe he could come up with the words later. Maybe he would get her a birthday present, a really good one, to let her know how special she was. For now, they were good again, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world. “‘Kay.”</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed that!</p><p>Like I said the chapter was getting too bloated and I feel like they already had a LOT of emotions in this; anymore would have been overwhelming. I'm working on the next one so you'll probably have (much shorter) September chapter.</p><p>Come say hi in the comments! Tell me what you liked, what you hated, what you want to see next...</p><p>EDIT: I promise I am working on this but it got to be so long I had to split it into another chapter, which makes everything a little more complicated. Anyway, as I said, feel free to let me know what you think of everything so far, the story changes on pretty much a daily basis so its nice to have feedback.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. September - Part III (Sneak Peek)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So this is a preview of the next chapter, which I honestly thought would be done by now but I've had a whole heap of life stuff happen and the chapter right now is 35K and is probably going to get longer...I would have left it but I realised I haven't updated in over a month. Once it's done I'll update this chapter.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Teenage Barry and Iris have Christmas together.<br/>(FYI the song in the scene is "Reasons To Love You" by Meiko and I totally recommend it because is a PERFECT teen Westallen song but just my opinion).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <b>Christmas. Barry and Iris are fifteen.</b>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris, baby, why aren’t you eating?”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Iris looked away from the clock to see that her father was looking at her. Actually, most of the family were looking at her, which wasn’t surprising - Christmas dinner in the West family meant </em>every <em>plate was licked clean, especially when Joe was cooking. “Sorry, dad,” she said, picking up her fork. “Just distracted.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Oh, yeah?” Wally said next to her, mouth full. “By what?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Wallace.” Aunt Mary, who was sitting next to her mother, glared at him. “Do not talk with your mouth full.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Sorry, mom.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris went back to her sweet potato pie as everyone went back to their conversation. Since she was in charge of the playlist this year, the Destiny’s Child Christmas album was playing in the background, though the sounds of the extended West family was mostly drowning them out. It was a combination of gossip about someone in their grandmother’s church who had gout, her uncles talking to her mom about the game, and the kids arguing about whether Superman would beat the Green Lantern in a fight. Aunt Mary and her husband Eddie had arrived with Wally and the twins - Dani and James - three days ago, followed by her father’s cousin Willy and his two kids the day after, and finally her grandmother Esther last night. Her had had been cooking for most of those days and her mother had been on call until just before breakfast, so most of the last two days had been spent with Iris receiving family members, settling them into various rooms (she was currently sharing a room with Dani and one of Willy’s girls, but they were both similar ages and younger than Iris so they were entertaining each other), and making sure that nobody micro-managed her dad when he was cooking. This pretty much happened every year, so Iris was used to it. This year, however, was different.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Because this year, she had plans with Barry.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Meticulous, carefully-laid, I-will-kill-you-if-you-mess-this-up, plans. Also? Nobody knew about their plans but them.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Back when they were younger, they always used to exchange presents before the end of school, but since there were friends again they’d planned to see each other during the actual day. Since they were originally just going to spend the better part of their day with the core part of their family, Iris was just going to go to Barry’s in the evening so they could exchange gifts in his treehouse. But that had soon unravelled as more and more of her family invited themselves over to her house, and everything kept getting pushed back until she was literally not going to be able to get free until midnight. Then Barry’s Great-uncle Lester and his kids has decided to come and spend the day with them. They were leaving in the evening since Nora was on-duty from seven, but their plans were effectively ruined. Iris was going Boxing Day shopping with her mom the next day since she didn’t get very long off from the hospital, so Iris didn’t want to move it to then.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry, though, had suggested she just come over after everyone left. “Mom is driving everyone back to the airport and then going to work,” he’d suggested as they walked home a few weeks ago. “You could, I don’t know, just come for a couple hours? We could… do gifts and then watch a movie, with hot cocoa, if you want. Or - or something, I don’t know,” he finished, shrugging and looking at his shoes.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris had looked at him. The snow had come early that year and Barry’s cheeks, nose and ears were pink from the cold. He had forgotten his hat - again - and his chestnut brown hair, tangled and messy from all the times he’d run his hand through it, was glittering with snow crystals. He’d looked so beautiful that she wanted to reach up on her tiptoes and kiss him, because the other thing that was different about this Christmas was that she had very inconveniently fallen in love with Barry Allen. Again.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Or maybe she hadn’t fallen in love again. Maybe she’d always been in love with him and the time they’d spent apart, her feelings had just gone into hibernation and then popped out when they became best friends again, blooming like cherry blossoms in spring. None of that was the point, anyway. The point had been that Barry had been looking at her from under his eyelashes like a baby deer begging for milk when he’d asked her this, and she’d pretty much been unable to resist his dumb, adorable face. He’d been nervous, she’d realised, because he thought she might say no. Because instead of being alone on Christmas after his family left, he’d rather spend it with her.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Sure,” she’d said slowly, smiling. “That sounds great, Barry.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He had grinned at her, eyes crinkling. “Awesome! Okay, so here’s what I think…”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>The plan had come together slowly, mostly because she had to work around the absolute chaos of her family, who kept reorganising the day. A typical Christmas for the West family consisted of everyone noisily congregating for breakfast, before helping clear up the mess they made, then presents, then going to play with presents, then lunch, and then the movies. Everyone sat in the living room in the dark while they watched </em>The Wiz<em>, then </em>The Preacher’s Wife<em>, and then, once all the kids had fallen asleep in their respective positions, </em>Friday After Next. <em>Wally was particularly excited because they were finally old enough to watch that last one this year.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris, however, would not be joining them. After she was done with this pie, she was going to tell everyone she was sick and had to go lie down. By the time everyone had gotten through seconds, more dessert, and settled in for the movie, people wouldn’t notice she was missing, especially once Grandma Ester got out her bourbon (which her mother was still convinced was moonshine, which is why she never let Iris drink any of it) and everyone would be passed out by the time they’re throwing the rent party in the movie. Which is when she would get the food she’d helped her dad make, gather up Barry and Nora’s presents, and head off.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>So. She was still staring at the clock, even as she helped clear the table and everyone started playing card games. Uncle Willy absolutely cheated at Uno, Aunt Mary always stole everyone’s cards, and there might be an actual murder today, but Iris didn’t care. She had plans with Barry. Nothing would keep her away from him.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She remembered the exact moment she realised she was still in love with him. Ever since Iris had agreed to help Barry with his calculus - and he had wordlessly started helping her with English and History in return - they pretty much spent all of their time together. They walked to and from school together, they got lunch together, they spent Sundays together. Iris’ friends didn’t comment much after wide-eyed interrogations about whether Barry was her boyfriend, and if Barry’s friend Max had a problem with her, he did a pretty good job of hiding it. Without fail, Barry met her after class so they could go to his place and then walk her home after homework. He was almost always late, but he was always there. After every day, she could count on Barry waiting for her, no matter what happened.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>On this particular day, she was in what could only be described as a miserable mood. She’d had a full day of advanced classes to prepare for a science camp she was taking the next year, and it was the first time she felt out of her depth. She struggled through each one, and even though her teachers assured her that she had done well, her nerves were completely fried and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed with some cocoa and a Disney movie. To make matters worse, she’d have to walk home on her own, because she’d made sure to tell Barry that her classes would be running until six in the evening so he wasn’t hanging around for her.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She’d packed up all her stuff and trudged outside to her locker to get her coat, honestly a little bleary-eyed and spaced out because she’d spent her dad doing calculations and looking at screens, so she didn’t notice him at first. She also had a headache and was pretty sure if someone said the wrong thing to her she’d burst into tears. But gradually, she noticed that someone was calling her name. When she looked up, Barry was grinning at her, holding a brown paper bag in his hand. Iris had blinked, even as her heart lifted and her mood started to melt away.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry, what are you doing here?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Baking a cake,” he’d said, raising an eyebrow. “Duh, Iris, I’m waiting for you.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“B-But I - it’s late, I told you I had this thing…”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I know that,” he shrugged. “I waited in the library. Are you ready? There’s a documentary about Superman I want to watch, so we should go.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris felt weirdly like her heart was bursting. She shook her head. “Wait, Barry-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris,” he’d interrupted, an exasperated smile on his face, “did you think I was just going to leave you here by yourself? You’ve been telling me for weeks about it and I figured you’d have to stay late and hello, it’s October, and I didn’t want you to walk home alone-“</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris had interrupted him with a hug, wrapping her arms around him tightly and breathing in his clean, familiar Barry smell. His arms came up around her automatically. “Thanks, Barry.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Of course.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Then she’d pulled back and looked at his easy, cheerful smile, at the way he’d brightened up her day so effortlessly. At the way he turned her whole world around. She’d swallowed. “I love - love that you hid in the library this whole time instead of going to the homework help class,” she’d amended quickly, her face heating. Thankfully, he hadn’t noticed.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“I wasn’t - I wasn’t </em>hiding.<em> Just, Mr Henley has homework help today, and-”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You’re scared of him,” she grinned.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Shut up,” he grumbled. He seemed to remember that he was holding something and handed it to her. “Here. Thought you might be hungry.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You got me…half a brownie?”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Barry’s ears had reddened. “I was </em>hungry<em>!”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>But Iris had just grinned and slipped her arm through his before the walked home together. And that was the moment she realised she was still in love with him. This time, though, she was better equipped to handle her emotions than when she was eleven. She had a killer poker face, Barry’s baby deer look aside. And - and one day she would tell him. One day.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>So, anyway, Iris was watching the clock, except that Father Time seemed to pick today to take a break because time was moving like it was dragging a damn house behind it. Every time she looked, the minute hand only seemed to have moved a few inches.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Whats with you?” Wally wanted to know as they helped to clear the table. Iris swallowed.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Nothing, Dumbo.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Hey! I told you to stop calling me that.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You told me to stop calling you ‘big ears’,” Iris pointed out. “Dumbo is new.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Wally scowled. “You’re changing the subject. Why do you keep looking at the clock? You robbing a bank or something?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No reason,” she replied, avoiding his eyes. “Mind your business.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, which is it? No reason or mind your business? Because-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Mama! Wally wants to know about the test you take to get into med school!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Having successfully fended off her cousin, Iris carried that last of her plates into the kitchen, where her dad was icing cookies. He smiled when he saw her before going back to his cookies, making the Christmas hat on his head tinkly musically. “Hey, baby,” he said cheerfully. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve been quiet all day.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I’m okay, I’m just not feeling very well,” she shrugged. “I think I’m gonna go lie down.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Her father’s face fell, which Iris had expected, but that didn’t make it any easier - Christmas was one of her dads favourite times of the year, and she hated disappointing him. “You sure? Was it something you ate?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No, dad. I think I’m just tired. If I go now I think I’ll be fine for the movies.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Okay, baby,” he agreed. He scooped up three fresh cookies on a plate and handed them to her. “For the road, before your cousins get them all.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She grinned and kissed her dad on the cheek, before bounding up the stairs and into her room, shutting the door behind her.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris had prepared for this. She had all their presents in one corner of her room, as well as a couple of movies so they could pick. She had helped her dad with the cooking and “accidentally” made too much, so there was some fried chicken, sweet potato pie, Christmas cookies, and Mac and cheese (Barry’s favourite) in various containers in the fridge. She even had an outfit - a soft white sweater, pleated red skirt, and tights, and some clothes in case she got cold. She’d kept her cousins away from her stuff with a mixture of bribery and distracting gifts, and now they were downstairs getting high on her dad’s cookies. So all Iris had to do was wait.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She checked her stuff all over again. Looked at the clock. She made sure her clothes were ironed and fresh, and even sprayed it with some of the fancy perfume that she had. Looked at her watch. Made sure she remembered to charge her phone in case there was an emergency. Looked at the clock again. At one point her mother came to check on her, so she dived in bed and did her best impression of someone sick and reluctant to miss all the Christmas celebrations. Then she read her new Bill Nye book (on a timer, duh) while she ate her cookies. Her dad’s cookies were perfect - chocolate chip with cinnamon and still chewy in the middle. She ate them one by one, slowly, and smiled to herself when she realised it was half past six. Barry’s mom would be driving everyone to the airport, so she had to get ready.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris got dressed quickly and quietly, one eye on the door. She put on a little lipgloss and checked her hair in the mirror, feeling self-conscious and slightly silly because Barry probably - he probably wasn’t paying attention to what she was wearing or anything like that, but still. She wanted to look nice for him.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>The living room was in total darkness except for the TV when Iris peeked from the stairs, with everyone gathered around the TV in various positions - her Aunt Mary and her husband were on the floor with the twins, Wally was straddling a chair while holding a bowl of pie and cream, her dad was in his favourite armchair, Uncle Willy and his kids were on the sofa, and her grandmother was in her rocking chair (that she had made them cart over from Louisiana). Only her mother was missing, but she was probably in the bathroom. She snuck back to her room, got her stuff, and walked down the stairs by the pantry where no one could see her. She was going to slip into the garden from the kitchen and meet Barry outside, just as soon as she got the food-</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I - mom!” Iris exclaimed, trying not to drop her backpack full of presents. Her mother was leaning against the counter, an amused look on her face as she sipped her tea. “Um. Hi.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Hello. Are you feeling better?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“K-Kind of.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Um. What are you doing here?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Wally,” she said, putting her tea down, “told me that there is a lost white boy wandering outside the garden. I didn’t order any white boys today. Does he belong to you?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Her mother led her to the window, where they could see a figure stood by a bench beyond their garden, looking anxiously up at the house with his hands shoved in his pockets. Iris swallowed. “Um.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Her mother sighed. “Do you have your phone?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yes.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“And you’ll be safe?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yes.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Do you have our present for Nora?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yes.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She sighed. “Okay. Tell Barry I said Merry Christmas.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris beamed and hugged her. “Thanks, mom!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Francine laughed as Iris got her food and then slipped out of the kitchen, through the back door, and bounded through the snow towards Barry. As she watched, Barry grinned at her, holding his arms out for a hug. Then someone wrapped their arms around Francine and she smiled. “I knew it,” her husband said. “That girl has never skipped an opportunity to eat my cookies her whole life.” He sniffed as he watched Iris link arms with Barry and then set off with him. “He’s okay. I guess.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“They’re cute, Joe,” she laughed. “She’s in love. Let her be in love. We like him, remember? And he adores her.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“He should,” Joe said gruffly. “We made an adorable kid.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Outside, Barry let Iris go and she smiled up at him. “You’re not late!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris,” he said, rolling his eyes. He took one of her bags from her. “Yeah, okay, Merry Christmas to you too. You look nice.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris beamed. “Thanks. So do you. How was Great-Uncle Lester?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>As they walked to his house Barry talked about what happened when his grown up cousins and their dad turned up. Nora grew up in Brooklyn so whenever their family came to visit, Barry and Nora started to sound like them for the next few days - Barry called his mom “Ma” and Nora started talking with her hands, and both of them started talking a lot faster. Iris thought it was cute - but then, she thought that everything Barry did was cute. “…except now he’s in the stock market,” he continued, oblivious to Iris’ daydreaming. “He says he knows what he’s doing, but Mom says that he’s just messing around and if he gets in trouble with the SEC she’s just gonna laugh cause he’s a schmuck. Also one of my cousin’s is dancing in the New York Ballet next year.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Really? That’s so cool!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah, she’s doing...Swan Lake? I think.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“What about Jesse?” Iris asked, referring to Barry’s other cousin. “I thought she was coming?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Her dad got some crazy job in Switzerland investigating something to do with a speed cannon?”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“A </em>speed<em> cannon?” Iris demanded. She hit him. “Those are still in the developing stages here in the States! Why didn’t you tell me?”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Because you hit me when you get excited,” he said, rubbing his arm. They had reached Barry’s house and he let them in, heading straight for the kitchen so they could put the food away. Nora had wrapped up the turkey and the food, but the TV was still on - muted - and so was the radio. The house was warm and toasty, and smelled like chocolate and cinnamon from all the candles that were dotted around. Iris looked out at Barry’s garden, which was covered in a fresh, pristine blanket of snow. “Barry! Look!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He frowned. “Look at what?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You haven’t played in your snow yet!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, yeah, both of my cousins are, like, old, and they-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Come on, we’re making snow angels,” she decided, grabbing his hand and leading him outside. He laughed - right up until she shoved a snowball in his face and pushed him over. He sat up, spluttering, as she danced away from him.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“Iris, you are </em>so<em> dead-”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Try and catch me, Barry Allen!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>They spent the next twenty minutes chasing each other around the garden, pelting each other with snowballs and tackling each other. At one point, when she ran out of snowballs, she gave up and dug her fingers into his ribs, tickling him until he couldn’t breathe and then running off again. It ended with Iris finally surrendering when he cornered her in the tree armed with a little mountain of snowballs. She scowled down at him, pointing.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“This isn’t over, Barry!”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“It looks like its over,” he called smugly. He was soaking wet and his hair was stuck to his head, but he was grinning at her. “I’ll stay here all day, you know..”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Next year,” she told him as she prepared to get down from the tree. “Next year, you’re dead.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Is that a promise?” he asked, standing up. He took her hand to help her down to the ground and she blinked, realising that her glasses were so foggy she couldn’t see out of them. She patted herself down for the cloth to clean them, but then she felt Barry cup her face with one hand and slide them gently off her face. The world went blurry for a second and then Barry titled her chin up with a finger and placed them carefully back on her face, clean and free of fog. Iris suddenly felt every nerve ending in her body and was glad that her brown skin hid any sign of blush. Barry smiled at her, then took her hand. “Okay, you were right, that was fun. Come on, let’s go get warmed up.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>When Iris was very small, she used to follow her mom around and ask her science questions. Questions about blood, about why the wind changed directions, where cold went when you hugged people. But Iris’ favourite science explanation was about sunspots. They were these dark spots on the sun that were formed by magnetic fields coming up through the sun’s surface, making them appear darker than other parts of the sun. They came rarely, her mom had said, but they were pretty nice to look at. When you saw a sunspot, it meant that the sun’s beams weren’t shining as bright.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Where does the sunbeams go, mommy?” Iris had asked, and her mother had smiled.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, people say they don’t know, but I do.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Really? Where?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“In your heart.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris’ eyes had widened. “Really?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Uh-huh,” she had nodded, shifting Iris on her knee. “In science, we know that everything that happens affects something else. The sunbeams don’t disappear, they go somewhere else. And I think that when you see a sunspot, someone somewhere is falling in love. Because falling in love feels like every bit of the sun is shining on you, baby, like all that light is filling you up from inside. Like you have your own personal sun, following you around.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“But doesn’t that hurt?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“It’s a little scary,” she had admitted. “But love is a little scary. Not everyone gets to feel it, but its always worth it in the end. I’ve got sunspot love,” she’d laughed, “with your dad. And it’s not like other love, you know, because sunspots are so rare.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>And four-year-old Iris West had looked at her mother and hoped for sunspot love, because what could be better than having the sun shining on you all day?</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>That was how Iris felt, when Barry held her hand when he walked her home, or waited for her when she was busy at school. Or anything, really. Like every golden ray of the sun was pouring through her like honey down warm toast, sweet and sublime and filling her up from the inside. They became best friends around the time his dad left, so sometimes she felt like she’d lucked out, like Barry had all that love to give and he just pointed it straight at her because she was around. Like a part of him had gone dark and he needed somewhere to put his sunshine, but she didn’t care. She had sunspot love, magnetic fields and all, pulling her towards him whenever he was around.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She wondered if he knew that, as much as he loved J. Garrick and his books about infinite numbers of beautiful stars, he was the sun for her, and just as beautiful as every single one of them.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I saved you some cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, and mom’s apple pie,” he said as they went back inside the house. Iris took off her boots and peeled off her coat, thankful that her mother made her buy such a thick one; at least she didn’t have to change her clothes. She slipped on her fluffy socks and took out the food that she’d brought, arranging it all on a plate so Barry could put it in the microwave. He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing. “I’m gonna go towel off and get some blankets and stuff, and then we can do presents and eat, okay?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry came back a little bit later with a bunch of blankets and a rectangular box, which she immediately knew to be her present. She had taken his out and was sat impatiently in front of his tree, humming along to the songs coming from the radio. Barry absently draped one of the blankets around her shoulders, and when he saw her giddy look, he smiled and sat down.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yes?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Would you like to go first?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Only because you insist,” she answered sweetly, and made grabby hands at the box. Barry shook his head and handed her the gift, before watching anxiously as she unwrapped and then opened it. Iris pulled out what looked like a black crystal ball mounted on a little black platform, although it was extremely heavy. She blinked. “Um.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Ah…here,” he said, taking it from her. He fiddled with the bottom of it, before taking out two little black squares and setting them down on either side of him. Then he pressed a switch and the ball was illuminated with little purple streaks of electricity, and Iris gasped when she could hear claps of thunder coming from the ball and the two little squares, which she realised were speakers. “It’s like a lightning…ball?” Barry explained. “I know you like lightning storms, so I found this - it makes the sounds and does the…lightning stuff, and it glows in the dark! You know, since we don’t always get them here.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat. She’d thought that her constantly going on about lightning storms, her favourite natural phenomenon, would have annoyed him. It tended to annoy everyone else. “This...this is amazing, Barry. How did you even get this?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, you know, I know a guy,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly, though the tips of his ears were pink. “Great-Uncle Lester may know a guy in New York, anyway. He helped me. Do you like it?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris reached over and hugged him again because she didn’t trust herself to say anything else. “I love it. It’s perfect.” She let him go and sighed. “My gift kind of sucks in comparison, by the way.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris, come on,” he laughed, waving a hand. “I’m sure its fine.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>She bit her lip and handed him a thick rectangular envelope with a little red bow on top. Barry opened it to reveal a sleep magazine, a printed letter, and two slips of paper. He frowned and started to read. “</em>Thank you for your subscription to Central City Picture News: Silver Edition. Please see enclosed your first entitlement, one copy of CCPN Magazine. The newspaper will follow on the first of each month…<em>Wait, Iris-”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“You’re always reading it,” she blurted out. “At the library, so I thought I would just…get you this, so you didn’t have to wait for copies to come in. You can just - you know, have your own. It’s valid for a year, and I can renew it next year, too. And - and those are train tickets,” she added.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Train tickets?” he repeated. Iris nodded.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah, for next month. See, there’s this competition for the magazine, where someone our age has to write about something, and then you have to go up to CCPN to talk to an editor on how to improve it. Then you work on it together, and if you win, it goes in the magazine. And I thought that if you wanted, you could enter it. But then, even if you didn’t, you could still go with your mom or something and…see how everything…works…” Iris trailed off and shook her head. “It’s fine, I can get you something else-”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No!” Barry said quickly. “No, Iris, of course not, this is great, I just - how did you even find this?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Oh,” she replied, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I found it online. You said you really wanted to write for them, and I thought this could work.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Barry looked down at the letter and the magazine and the tickets, and then shook his head. “This is perfect. But I don’t want to go with my mom, I want to go with </em>you<em>.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Okay,” she grinned. “So you’ll do it? You’ll enter? Because I think you’ll be really great, Barry.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>He ducked his head. “Thank you, Iris. You didn’t have to do this.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Duh, Barry, I did this so when you’re a big-shot editor and you’re winning all your awards and stuff, you have to include me in your speeches.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>They were interrupted by the microwave pinging, and Barry very carefully put everything back in the envelope, being careful not to rip anything, and went to get the food. Iris smiled, trying not to hug herself as they put her own present back in its box. She’d agonised over Barry’s present for almost a month, swinging between thinking that he’d love it and thinking he would think she was weird for essentially giving him homework. So she was glad that he liked it, and she couldn’t help the grin on her face when she remembered that he wanted to go with </em>her<em>.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>She got up to go help him get plates and stuff, and he directed her to a large jug of something steaming. “You want some mulled wine?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“What’s that?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Great Uncle-Lester got the recipe from some fair he went to; they drink it in England. I haven’t had any yet, but I think it’s like eggnog?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She shrugged, carrying everything to the carpet. “Sure, sounds cool.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris turned out to be glad that she hadn’t eaten much at her house, because she and Barry ended up polishing off everything Iris brought with her and at least a third of what Nora had left. They ended up sprawled on the floor, barely able to move since they were so full. “I think if you cut me open, I’d be made Mac and cheese,” Barry yawned. Iris rubbed her eyes.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry, what was in that mulled wine? It wasn’t real alcohol, was it?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I don’t think so. It tasted like oranges.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Okay.” That foggy, happy feeling must be all the food she’d eaten.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>They lay on the floor like that for a while, listening to the radio and watching the movie that was muted on TV - some British Christmas movie, Barry thought. They were waiting to watch their favourites - “The Muppets Christmas Carol” for Iris and “It’s a Wonderful Life” for Barry. The room still smelled mostly of cinnamon and was so toasty that he could see himself falling asleep. Iris had her eyes closed behind her glasses as she lay next to him on the floor by the couch, her thick socks somewhere by his middle..</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Iris?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“What do you want most in the world? Like, if you could have anything you wanted, if you didn’t have to worry about how expensive or hard to get it was, or whatever, what do you want? More than anything?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>She smiled but kept her eyes closed. “Nothing you could get with money.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>That was an answer typical of Iris, he knew - typical of her to say something like that, instead of the shallow answers that people usually gave. When they were younger she said she wanted to invent things, and that she wanted to go to the moon, and also that she was going to build a robot. In the past few months, since she offered to help him with his homework and they became best friends again, he felt like he wanted to know what he’d missed since they were apart. There were things that Iris knew about him that nobody else knew - like why his favourite book was his favourite, everything he liked to do on his birthday, and exactly how to cheer him up on a bad day. He wanted to know if what he knew was still the same.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“Okay. How about like…” He sat up quickly. “What do you want to </em>do<em> most on the world? Like an accomplishment or something.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris didn’t answer at first, and then sat up slowly, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I guess I…I want to discover a miracle.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“A miracle?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Yeah. Like, I want to find something extraordinary, something that nobody can explain or quantify or anything.” Her eyes lit and she sat up on her knees. “Something so out of this world crazy that every time we think we get close to understanding it, there’s something new about it that we have to study. Something almost…magical. A miracle.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry tipped his head. “But I thought you always said everything had a scientific explanation.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Science is just magic with an explanation behind it,” she shrugged. “I want to find something that nobody can explain, you know? Like a person who can go underwater without drowning or who can withstand lightning. I want to discover the impossible.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry considered this, the way she looked when she was talking, the way her voice became breathless on the word “impossible”, and knew that she would. He was certain Iris could do anything she put her mind to - even if other people said it was impossible. “You will,” he said firmly. “I believe in you, Iris. The impossible won’t even see you coming.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris smiled shyly at this, and then brought her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them. “What about you? What do you want to accomplish most in the world?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I want to write about a superhero,” he said simply. Iris grinned at him.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Like Lois Lane?”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“Kinda. I mean, I think Superman has a crush on her and I don’t know what I’d do if a superhero had a crush on </em>me<em>,” he admitted. He rubbed the back of his head. “But no. I just - I want to be the person who brings hope to all those people, you know? I mean, everyone needs someone to look up to, something to make them feel like there’s someone or something watching over them. That’s making them safe. I want to be the person to make them believe in that stuff again and that maybe they can, sort of, be that great themselves one day.” He tugged at his ear, both of which had gone pink again. “Is that - is that corny?”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“No, Barry, it’s great,” she insisted. “Superman may be the hero of Metropolis because he protects it, but don’t forget, Lois Lane is one as well, ‘cause she’s the one who brings his story to the world. And she’s probably a hero to Superman, too. She has to be, if he trusts her with his story like that. I don’t know who wouldn’t adore someone who saw the truth of you and made sure the world got to see it.”</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>Barry stared at her. Her eyes were closed again and she was swaying absently to the music, a small smile on her face. And Barry was reminded of a specific passage in </em>A Hundred Million Stars<em>, when the old man was saying to the boy that the best thing about the missing star, the one he’d seen and the one whose return he was waiting on, wasn’t just that it was beautiful. It was that it let you see the beauty in yourself. ‘</em>Stars are not there so you can ruminate. They are there to illuminate,’, <em>the old man said in the book.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Iris hadn’t read it (whenever she tried she got really excited and started talking about constellations, and Barry always let her, so she never got very far) and he’d never told her about that part. But it…it fit, and for a brief, silly second, Barry thought about the beginning of the book, when the old man said everyone had their own star, and thought that maybe…maybe Iris was his.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>But that was silly. Wasn’t it?</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Out loud, he said, “I’m really glad you’re my best friend, Iris.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Her eyes flew open and it occurred to him that this was the first time he’d actually vocalised it since they became friends again. “I’m glad, too.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>The song changed to one he recognised, something slow and mellow with soft strings, and Iris started swaying again, her hair brushing her shoulders as she smiled contentedly. “Come on,” he said suddenly, holding a hand out to her. “Let’s dance.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“W-What?” she asked, taking his hand anyway, because Iris had never been able to resist Barry when he wanted something. He pulled her to her feet and frowned between the two of them, and she swallowed. “Barry, what are you doing?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“My cousin taught me how to dance to songs like this,” he explained. He put one hand on her waist and frowned. “Wait. This is a pavane, right?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Barry,” she giggled. “No. Pavanes are really slow and they’re done in groups.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Uh…a minuet, then?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Nobody dances the minuet anymore.” She paused. “Well, maybe in Europe.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry smiled sheepishly. “Uh. I may have forgotten which dances go with which types of music.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“I think we just do a two-step, Bar.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Right! A two-step. Thats what she said.”</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Give me a reason to fall in love</p><p class="p1">Take my hand and lets dance</p><p class="p1">Give me a reason to make me smile</p><p class="p1">‘Cause I think that I forgot how.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry moved her carefully around the living room in their socks, glancing at their feet until he got the hang of it. “See?” he said proudly. “I can totally dance now.”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“It takes him four years to learn not to step on my toes and he thinks he can dance,” Iris muttered, and Barry looked affronted.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Hey! That only happened a couple times.” Iris rolled her eyes.</em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“It happened </em>all the time<em>.”</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Well, would someone who can’t dance do this?”</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>Barry took her right hand and raised it above her head, twirling her in a circle before bringing her back to him. “Oh,” Iris laughed breathlessly, and Barry grinned at her, winking.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“See? Told you.”</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">I wanna fall asleep with you tonight</p><p class="p1">I wanna know that I am safe when you hold me tight</p><p class="p1">I wanna feel how I wanna feel forever</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>Barry couldn’t know. He couldn’t know what his smile did to her. Because her heart was quite literally doing a marathon inside her chest and there were butterflies chasing themselves around and around in her stomach. She looked up at him - at his open, sunny smile, the gold and hazel and grey in his eyes, his chestnut brown hair that she had just now realised he must have brushed before he came back downstairs - and wasn’t able to breathe for a second. So she rested her head gently on his chest, because it was the only place she could think of to hide, feeling relieved when he drew her closer to him with his hand on the small of her back, because she knew - she </em>knew<em> that she would have the biggest, dopiest smile on her face and there was absolutely no way he wouldn’t figure out she was completely crazy about him. He had changed into a soft blue jumper, and it smelled like fabric softener and the citrus and cedar wood from his shower and </em>him<em>. Like Barry.</em></p><p class="p1">
  <em>Like home.</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Girls need attention and boys need us</p><p class="p1">So let's make everybody glad</p><p class="p1">That they have each other and each other's arms</p><p class="p1">Oh let's make everybody glad</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>Barry stroked his thumb over Iris’ hand. Her hair was tickling his neck but he didn’t mind, not really. They used to do this a lot when they were kids (she was right, he </em>did<em> used to step on her toes a whole lot, and she was always more gracious than he deserved about it), and her hair always tickled some part of his face. He noticed absently that while her hair smelled like lavender, </em>she<em> always smelled a bit like vanilla and something else. Another flower he couldn’t recognise, probably from her mom’s garden. It was kind of…spicy? But he could imagine the </em>Look<em> - the raised eyebrow and the pressed lips and the glint in her eye that said “The ice you are on is </em>thin<em>, Bartholomew,” - that she’d give him if he said she smelled spicy, so he kept it to himself. It was much easier to dance like this (though they were mostly just stepping and swaying now) when they were quiet. Without thinking, he wrapped his arm more tightly around her and sighed.</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Oh, I want you</p><p class="p1">Oh oh, I want you</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Merry Christmas, Barry,” she said quietly. He smiled into her hair.</em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em>“Merry Christmas, Iris.”</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, like I said, thats just a preview. Please let me know what you think! One of the reasons this has taken so long is because I considered deleting a few times so I want to know what people are thinking. I'm also going to reply to comments because I really want to talk about this story lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Update from Ivy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hey everyone,</p><p>So I've been taking some time to think about this - which is part of the reason that you haven't had an update in like two months - and I've made the decision not to continue with this fic. Writing this takes a lot of my time and I have so many commitments at the moment that I can't promise consistency, which makes me feel guilty, which makes me not enjoy writing...which is a whole, continuous, vicious cycle that makes my feelings around it really negative.</p><p>I have a lot of persona/mental stuff going on, not to mention the pandemic/pandemonium/pain au chocolat/peach-flavoured-iced-tea, which is making it hard to concentrate on more than one thing at a time. Which is to say that I may change my mind and continue writing when I'm in a better place mentally (which...whenever I commit to cutting out negative stuff, can be any time from three days to three months lol), but I have to be honest and say that the relief I feel from not having one more commitment feels really good.</p><p>I know some of you will be disappointed, but please know it was very hard for me to make this decision. I really missed writing (even though I...less than miss fandom) and it was really nice seeing what you guys commented and even some of the Twitter comments. I hope that, if I decide to keep writing, you will read the story, but I understand if you don't.</p><p>I hope you're all keeping safe &lt;3</p><p>Ivy x</p>
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